“Something’s happened to you,” she said.
“Right,” he answered cheerfully.
“Want to tell me your troubles?” she asked indifferently.
“No,” he said. “I haven’t any troubles. I’ve ceased to have them. That’s what’s happened to me.”
She laughed lightly. “So that’s it. Well, I’m glad you don’t want sympathy. I was afraid you might.”
“You misjudged me,” he said. “Besides, if I had wanted sympathy, would I have come to you?”
“No, I guess you do know me better than that.... Well, what do you want of me?”
“Nothing in particular of you,” he said. “I just want somebody to bum around with tonight.”
She puffed on her cigarette again. “You don’t look at all broken-hearted,” she said.
“Why should I look broken-hearted?”