On May 8, 1945—V.E. Day—John Hersey won the Pulitzer Prize for his first novel, A Bell for Adano. Twenty years later, with the appearance of his eleventh book, White Lotus, he has been told that while he once aspired to have a silver tongue, he has been given instead a golden touch; that instead of writing literature for all time, he has written books that make the Book-of-the-Month Club. Hersey should not have been discouraged by such remarks.

He broke off and bit his lip, feeling that he had better subdue the rising anger in his voice.

[…] the newly constructed and ornately facaded five-story buildings of Östermalm […]

Should we buy it here, or do you think the outfit across town will have a better deal?