The ball swung away and a gaping wound was evident in the side of the house. Girders and rusting pipes were revealed and seemed like a skeleton beneath the mansion's flesh. Then the ball swung again, hit, and swung countless times more. No one bled much for an old building on a prime corner lot; not when a white-faced luxury high rise could soon be erected in its place.
Shassad watched the destruction, wondering what emotion he should feel and watching Daniels at the same time.
'A wealthy old woman used to live there, didn't she?' Shassad finally asked.
'The family had a lot of money?'
'Once they did,' replied Thomas.
'Not now?'
Shassad waited for an answer and none was immediately forthcoming.
Finally Thomas, watching the Sandler estate crumble, its history with it, merely uttered a question to answer another question.
'Who knows?' he said.
Shassad thought about it for a few seconds. Then, seeking to ingratiate himself, he broke into a broad smile and attempted humor.
'Well, what the hell?' he suggested.
'Stay a lawyer, Daniels.
Maybe an heiress will turn up and all you smart lawyer boys can get rich.'
Daniels turned slowly and looked at Shassad, his face arranged in an expression which Shassad simply could not read. Only one thing was clear. Shassad knew he'd said something wrong.
