On a freezing afternoon，I picked up a wallet in the street．There was no identification（身份证） inside．Just three dollars，and an old letter that looked as if it had been carried around for years．I opened the letter and saw that it had been written in 1924--almost 60years ago．I read it carefully，hoping to find some clue to find the wallet's owner．

It was a"Dear John"letter．The writer，in a delicate script（娟秀的字迹），told her lover，whose name was Michael，that her mother did not allow her to see him again．It was signed Hannah and her phone number．So I called．

"No，of course!We bought this house from Hannah thirty years ago．Hannah had to live in the nursing home many years ago．Maybe you can go there．"

Then I phoned the nursing home and was told，"Yes，Hannah is with us．Hannah was a sweet，silver-haired old-woman with a warm smile and friendly eyes．"

I went up to the third floor of the nursing home．I showed her the wallet and the letter．The moment she saw it，she took a deep breath．"Young man，"she said，"this letter was the last contact I had with Michael．"She then said deeply："I loved him very much．But I was only sixteen and my mother felt I was too young．I never did marry，I guess no one ever matched up to Michael…"

I took the elevator to the first floor．As I stood at the door，holding the letter to the guard．He looked at it closely and said，"Hey，I know，the letter is Mr．Goldstein's．He's always losing it．"

"Who's Mr．Goldstein？"I asked．"He's one of the old-timers on the eighth floor．That's Michael Goldstein's wallet，for sure．We went there where Michael Goldstein was reading a book．I told him I know where Hannah is．"He grew pale．"Hannah？You know where she is？How is she？When that letter came，my life ended．I never married．I guess I've always loved her．"

"Michael，"I said．"Come with me．"We three took the ele