“Dear, let’s just go,” she beseeched my father. “Mr. Taylor found us a room nearby.” “No!” my father cried, and he threw off the hand with which she had tried to snatch his arm. “This policeman knows why we were evicted. He knows, the manager knows, everybody in this lobby knows.” “I think you ought to listen to your wife,” the cop said. “I think you ought to do what she tells you, Roth. Leave the premises.” Jerking his head in the direction of the door, he said, “And before you wear out my patience.”
