"It seems to be a woman pleading with a man, doesn't it?"
"It looks like that. It probably means nothing beyond a bit of decoration."
"And he seems so implacable, while she's down on her knees, poor thing!" She looked round at me. "Are you busy here still?"
"Oh, there are always things to do. Why?"
"I thought you might walk back to—to the hotel with me."
I took out my watch, though unable to read the time even when I looked at it.
"I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid—"
"Oh no, you're not." There was a repetition of the catch in the tone that suggested a sob. "Billy, aren't we—aren't we going to be friends?"
I couldn't soften toward her. I felt no springs of forgiveness.
"Why should you want to be friends with me?"