Now all I could hope for was that the person who cleaned the restroom had found my wallet. So I politely approached an old lady reading her book at the front desk. I asked her if a wallet had been found in the bathroom yesterday. She didn’t answer me until she found a good place to pull herself away from her book. Then she peered at3 me from behind the thick black glasses parked on her nose. Letting out a quiet sigh, she slowly struggled out of her comfortable sitting position. She walked through a door and vanished4 for a moment. Then she came back to the desk.
“No.”
That was that. I quickly thanked her and walked off.
I wondered what I would do if I had found a wallet containing sixty dollars, a phone card and many other irreplaceable5 personal items. Finally, I painfully accepted the fact that my wallet was gone.
A week later, after I had canceled my bank card and reported my license mis