You didn't spend even one night in that place. I got you a room and I looked after you. Now, have I kept that solemn promise?"
I nodded, but I could see by the way he was folding and unfolding his bills that he was having trouble.
And as much as I didn't want to know—I knew. "I've tried my best to do a good job. I've worked hard...."
"I know, Charlie. Nothing's wrong with your work. But something happened to you, and I don't understand what it means.
Not only me. Everyone has been talking about it. I've had them in here a dozen times in the last few weeks.
They're all upset. Charlie, I got to let you go." I tried to stop him but he shook his head.
"There was a delegation in to see me last night. Charlie, I got my business to hold together."
He was staring at his hands, turning the paper over and over as if he hoped to find something on it that was not there before.
"I'm sorry, Charlie." "But where will I go?" He peered up at me for the first time since we'd walked into his cubbyhole office.
"You know as well as I do that you don't need to work here any more." "Mr. Donner, I've never worked anywhere else."
"Let's face it. You're not the Charlie who came in here seventeen years ago—
not even the same Charlie of four months ago. You haven't talked about it.
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