“I’m glad you got on at Chicago, that’s all. You won’t be sore at me for saying so? I’ve got to say what I think, to you.”
She can feel just how it must be. Your profile looks so tired.
Turn to her suddenly. “I’m talking like a crazy person. Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Of course I don’t.”
Settle back again. “Good. I’m not really, but I guess most people would think so.”
“Why should they?”
“Talking like this to a girl I just met on the train.”
“Talking like what? You haven’t said anything.” She is really bewildered.
“Haven’t I?” Look at her again, quickly. “You know, that’s a queer thing. I thought I had. I thought I’d said lots of things. Do you ever have that feeling?”
“Oh—that. Yes.”