Hotel

by Arthur Hailey

Yessir, yessir, I’ll kiss you on both cheeks, sir. By all means write on the cloth, sir, and here’s another ball-point pen, sir. As long as I get a great fat tip, who cares about the goddam laundry?”

He had once read that when a military airplane pilot crashed through no fault of his own, he was at once sent up again before he could lose his nerve. He must follow the same principle.