People's Playhouse. Tulsa, Oklahoma.
For the next half hour she must have sat there trying to co-ordinate out of chaos by staring at the heading and repeating over and over again: "People's Playhouse. Tulsa, Oklahoma. People's Playhouse. Tulsa, Oklahoma."
* * * * *
Whistles were blasting through the noonday fog when Bruce finally and without preamble burst into her office.
It struck her even on the gale of his entrance how young he was that his hair should show the nervous plowing of five fingers, and how sensitive his profile and ready to flare at the nostrils. His tie, too, burnt orange, from a soft collar and badly knotted! She wanted to jerk up his chin and putter at remaking the four-in-hand.
"Lilly—sweetheart—"
She sat regarding him over the top of People's Playhouse, Tulsa,
Oklahoma.
"Sweetheart, let us call it a day. I want to drive you out to Tarrytown to—"
"Don't," she said, frowning.
"Don't what?" Her immobility an ineffectual stop to his exuberance.