Irwin was difficult to wake; the poor man was totally wiped out. He collapsed in one of the soft office chairs the moment Smith let him, sliding back into slumber. After he was settled, I sat at my desk and reviewed Smithsno, Charless notes, shuffling the paper irritably to bring the print into focus. Someday, Id come up with a melody that fixed my sight problems. And tomorrow, I thought, mocking myself, Ill find a way to sing away fleas and retire rich.
