The Great DepressionChapter 3
It was now almost three weeks that Elizabeth had written to her nephew in Atlantic City. She no longer had any hope of hearing from him and she was now resigned to sell the house. It was therefore a great surprise when she saw the mailman riding his bicycle one sunny morning in June, stopped in front of her mailbox by the road. From her kitchen window she watched him place a brown envelope into the box and lift the small metal flag to indicate that there was mail in the box. At first she...