“I don’t suppose this means anything to you,” he blurted out after a long silence.
“Oh, God!” she said impatiently. “Can’t you sleep? What means nothing to me?”
“Being here…” George was glad it was dark. He felt the irritating flush mounting to his face. “I’ve never had a girl in my room before.”
“You’re a simple soul, aren’t you?” she said. “Are you getting a kick out of this?”
George warmed to her immediately. So she could be kind in a rather patronizing way!
“Of course I am,” he said, and encouraged by the darkness, he went on, a little haltingly. “This has been a marvellous evening for me. I don’t suppose you realize what it means to me.”
“Why not?”
“Well, perhaps you do; but you’re not lonely like I am. I spend most of my time on my own. I don’t know why, but I just don’t seem to make friends. I haven’t met anyone I wanted to make my friend— until now.” He coughed nervously, alarmed at his own rashness. Well, he had said it now. He almost cringed while waiting for her to reply. Was she going to be kind?
She didn’t say anything.
George waited anxiously, and then realized, with a sense of frustration, that she wasn’t going to reply.