"Well? What did you see?" she asked.
"I wasn't looking," he replied.
"Why, dearie," she retorted. "Where's that imagination of yours?"
"It was with you," he answered. "Tell me what you were thinking."
And still under the spell of the music, Deborah said to her father,
"I was thinking of hungry people—millions of them, now, this minute—not only here but in so many places—concerts, movies, libraries. Hungry, oh, for everything—life, its beauty, all it means. And I was thinking this is youth—no matter how old they happen to be—and that to feed it we have schools. I was thinking how little we've done as yet, and of all that we're so sure to do in the many, many years ahead. Do you see what I mean?" she squeezed his hand.
"Welcome back to school," she said, "back into the hungry army of youth!... Sh-h-h!"
Again the music had begun. And sitting by her side he wondered whether it was because she knew that Laura's affair had made him feel old that Deborah had brought him here.
They went to Edith's for supper.