“You have avoided me,” he said as they walked in the street.
“Yes.”
They continued in silence. The morning was brisk. Inside the theater, he led the way to the stage. The curtain was up. The scenery for the first act of his play was in place—dungeon walls and a single door at the rear.
“We’ve probably been followed,” he said softly as they sat down in two chairs near the dark footlights. “But we can talk easily here.”
“What do you want?”
“I love you,” he whispered. “You have forgotten that.”
“No.”
“Yet you hide from me.”
“What do you want?” she repeated.
“To warn you,” he whispered. “They know about the telephone call. And about the time you spent in the apartment.”