2
“You do make good coffee, Felix!” she said, the next morning. “One more cup, and I think I’ll be equal to the rehearsal. No, you mustn’t come with me.”
“I wasn’t going to go with you, foolish child. I’m merely going to escort you to the front door.”
At the street door she kissed him. “Don’t expect me!” she said. “If you wait for me, I shan’t come back.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You’ll probably find me curled up on your doorstep when you come home. Good-bye.”
He watched her disappear around the corner, then went out and looked on the sidewalk, and in the street. He was looking for a little book which he had tossed out of the window the night before.
He did not find it. Somebody had picked it up and carried it away.... But that was better than finding it crumpled and muddy in the gutter. It was the last thing binding him to his old life, and it was just as well that it should be utterly gone.