In a spy novel I had just read, the hero hid
a letter in a particular statue in Washington, D.C. Since I was in that city at
the time, on a whim I decided to see if the statue really contained the small
niche the author had described. To my great surprise, it did – and a
cellophane – wrapped letter was inside. After a moment’s hesitation, I pulled out
the letter, opened it, and burst into laughter.
An unidentified reader had penned, “Good book, wasn’t it?”
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