He slowly folded it in half and put it into his breast pocket with a forced smile.

I watched him from table twenty-two as he smoothed his suit lapel, realizing his financial hold over the venue was completely gone.

The trumpet cut off first.

Clare Ulette Vance stood at the podium with the kraft paper envelope against the microphone stand.

Her hands were laced at her waist, then she moved them to the envelope, then back.

“I need to correct the record before dessert,” she said.

At table one Gerald set his napkin down.