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not that i was expecting any, but i always check.
just like i always look both ways and behind me when i cross the street.
you got to gamble, but you can't be too careful.
i walked up the three flights of stairs to my room.
i don't like elevators.
did i ever tell you what happened to me in an elevator in budapest in 1944? but that is another story.
i walked down the corridors.
one thing about the place, it was quiet.
i stood outside the door of the hotel room.
how many doors outside how many rooms in how many hotels in how many cities in how many continents had i stood like this -
my sixth sense told me everything was all right.
i still wished i had a gun. i needed a lot of things - that was high on the list.
i put the key in the door and opened it and went in.
i switched on the light. nothing. just like i expected. my powers of prediction were still working pretty good. good enough, anyway.
i needed some sleep but i knew i wasn't going to get any.
i had gotten pretty wet, so i got my suitcase out and changed my clothes.
i could hear the wind and rain outside.
i couldn't stop thinking about the dame in the cab - what did she call herself?
miss lost lamb.
i went and looked out the window,
it was raining harder than ever.
i hoped miss lost lamb hadn't gotten too wet getting out of the cab.
she was right across the street.
so close, so close.
i could say, she might as well be a million miles away.
but i know better.
fate has a way of stepping in.
especially if you know how to handle it.
i got a cigarette out of my pack and started to light it with my lighter.
then i remembered the matchbook.
davenport 7 - 5297.
i went over and sat on the bed and picked up the phone.
the line was dead.
not too surprising, in a dump like this.
but now i was curious.
and i wasn't going to sleep anyway.
i didn't feel like going back out in the rain.
i figured i'd go down to the front desk, use the phone down there.
yeah, that is what i'd do.
davenport 7 -5297
it had a certain ring to it.