How many scruples in ten drams?
--_The Complete Arithmetic_, 1874
Mae didn't want to fly, so we left early and drove down to Washington.
This made it possible to avoid whatever kind of official airport
reception might have been arranged for me. We went right to our new
house in Bethesda.
It was a beautiful little house, in a wooded section, and
air-conditioned, as Gov had promised. The phone was in and Mae called
Ann McEachern, Ian's wife, who had said she'd come over from Silver
Spring as soon as we got in. Ann was there in half an hour and I left
for the National Press Building. I wanted to see Ian and read the news
before I checked in at the White House.
Reb Sylvester was on the desk and Ian had just got back from lunch.
"Well, well," Ian said, "if it isn't Mr. Kent, back to see his old
cronies. Congratulations, Sam."
"Thanks. But what's going on here?" The office was a mess. There was
paper all over the floor and tags on the filing cabinets.
"We're moving--haven't you heard? _They're_ moving, that is. I quit
this morning."
"What do you mean quit? Did you get drafted, too?"
"No such luck, if luck is the word I want. I just resigned. Tomorrow
I start making the rounds to see if they need anybody at the AP or
Reuters or the _Times_."
"Look, Ian," I said. "This is all too fast for me. How about going up
to the Press Club and telling me about it over a drink?"
"Okay," he said, after the slightest of hesitations. "For old times'
sake, okay."