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"I promise you I won't say anything about it," Tracy said coldly.
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As they reached the front entrance of the store, Morgan said, "You will let me know if you change your mind, won't you? The best time to telephone me is after six o'clock in the evening. I'll wait for your call."
"Don't,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]," Tracy said curtly, and she walked out into the approaching night. When she reached her room, she was still trembling.
She sent the hotel's one bellboy out for a sandwich and coffee. She did not feel like facing anyone. The meeting with Conrad Morgan had made her feel unclean. He had lumped her with all the sad, confused, and beaten criminals she had been surrounded by at the Southern Louisiana Penitentiary for Women. She was not one of them. She was Tracy Whitney, a computer expert, a decent, law-abiding citizen.
Whom no one would hire.
Tracy lay awake all night thinking about her future. She had no job, and very little money left. She made two resolutions: In the morning she would move to a cheaper place and she would find a job. Any kind of job.