She wasn’t interested in how he’d changed, though: she was interested in Jim Trebling. “I don’t suppose he’s engaged or anything like that?” She was casual.
Holton laughed. “No, you can get him if you want to.”
“I didn’t mean that at all. What do you mean by saying that?”
“Not a thing.”
She went on talking for several moments, trying to be indignant. Then they crossed another street and she stopped talking.
They walked with the current of people, walked uncomfortably but deliberately over the sidewalk ventilators of the subway beneath. As they walked they could feel the thunder of a subway train under their feet, vibrating upward, like a great emotion, into their stomachs.
Then they came to the opening of the subway. With a deep breath they descended into the pit. Like lemmings dashing seaward the people pushed down the steps and into already crowded trains.
Caroline and Holton were separated. A sudden push of the crowd threw her into the train just before the door closed. He caught a last glimpse of her serene beauty being crushed between a large Negress and a tall white man. The train gave a rumble and pulled away.
Holton stood on the concrete platform with a hundred others who had missed this train and were waiting for the next.
He walked up and down between the concrete pillars, looking at the broken machines which were supposed to sell gum and peanuts and, from habit, he put his finger into one of the slots to see if anything was there: nothing was there however.