When he walked into the Whitcomb that evening the clerk made a point of calling his name and shaking hands with him.

He was conscious that a number of idlers in the hotel lobby regarded him with a new interest.

Some one spoke his name audibly, and he enjoyed in some degree the sensation of being a person of mark.
He crossed University Square and walked out Meridian Street to Fitch's house.

The lawyer came downstairs in his shirt sleeves with a legal envelope in his hand.
"Glad to see you, Harwood.

I'm packing up; going to light out in the morning and get in on the end of my family's vacation.