Carla felt light and happy now that Lewis had been left behind.
“I like the air in New York,” she said.
“The air?”
“It’s exciting and silly and everyone is busy doing things they don’t want to do but still it’s stimulating.”
“I suppose so.”
She hadn’t decided yet whether he tried to be noncommittal or whether he had nothing to say. No, he had something to say: she was sure of that. He was shy and he felt things very much but he was afraid to say them. She remembered now that he had told her things about himself in Florence. He had told her about his parents and his life, though he hadn’t told her what he wanted to do. He still would not tell her that and, if he knew, she would have to discover it.
“How long are you going to be in town?” he asked.
“I don’t know. A month perhaps, I don’t know. I think Bankton will be coming over soon. They’re going to give him a big show here.”
“I’d like to see him.”
“He’d like to meet you, too.” She laughed. “I might lose you to him” She stopped herself quickly. She shouldn’t have said “lose” because they were supposed to be just casual friends; at least, that was the basis he seemed to want. She mustn’t frighten him. “I don’t think you’d like him,” she said easily, in control now. “He’s rather jealous and disagreeable.”