The waitress returned with their coffees. Hollis watched as a very young, very pale Englishman bought a yellow pack of American Spirit from the man at the till. The boy’s thin beard reminded her of moss around a marble drain. "So the people staying at the Marmont," she asked, "they have no idea, no way of knowing what you’ve done there?" Just as pedestrians had no way of knowing they stepped through the sleeping River, on his Sunset sidewalk.