The smell of laundry detergent was noticeable, the bed sheets very tightly stretched across the bed, tucked in on three sides. When they came to the round-house, Terry's courage failed him. His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit. That was an admission all right. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. With the last glimmer of decency he had sent the daughter to his sister.
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