A new life [antikvár]

S. Levin, formerly a drunkard, after a long and tiring transcontinental journey, got off . the train at Marathon, Cascadia, towards evening of the last Sunday in August, 1950. Bearded, fatigued, lonely, Levin set down a valise and suitcase and looked around in a strange land for welcome. The small station area -like dozens he had seen en route - after a moment's activity, was as good as deserted, and Levin, after searching around here and there, in disappointment was considering calling a taxi, when a man and woman in sports clothes appeared at the station. They stared at Levin - the man almost in alarm, the woman more mildly - and he gazed at them. As he grasped his bags and moved towards them they hurried to him. The man, in his forties, tall, energetic, with a rich head of red hair, strode forward with his hand outstretched. 'Sorry I'm late. My name's Dr Gilley.' 'S. Levin,' Levin said, removing his black fedora, his teeth visible through his beard. 'From the East.' 'Good,' beamed Gilley, his voice hearty. He indicated the tall, flat-chested woman in a white linen dress. 'My wife.' 'I'm pleased Levin said. Tm Pauline Gilley.' She was like a lily on a long stalk. 'Let me help you with your bags,' Gilley said. 'No, thanks, I -' 'No trouble at all.' He had grabbed both bags and now carried them around to his car, parked in front of the station, his wife and Levin hurrying after him. Unlocking the trunk, where two golf bags lay, one containing a brand new set of clubs, he deposited Levin's things. Levin had opened the rear door but Pauline said there was room for all in front. He shyly got in and she sat between them. *We were delayed at the golf course,' she explained. 7