“That’s too bad,” he said. She didn’t answer. She was quiet for a moment. He watched her and she enjoyed his watching her. Finally he said, “Murphy’s in a good mood today.”
Caroline nodded. “He’s real happy today. He wants to go out in the country. He always wants to do that when he’s feeling good.”
“He’s some character,” said Robert Holton. He sat down on the railing.
“It would be nice,” said Caroline thoughtfully, “to go out in the country; have a picnic maybe.”
“Sure, that would be nice, but you couldn’t do that.”
“No, I guess you couldn’t.” Caroline was contemptuous but because she was a very pretty and popular girl she didn’t show it. She was sensitive herself and that was what she wanted in life: a man who was as sensitive as she, someone who would respond to her moods. She looked at Robert Holton. He was sitting uneasily on the railing. No, he could never understand her great sadness. Perhaps no one would ever understand her. Caroline was sad, for it is a sad thing to be both pretty and sensitive.
“You’re going out tonight, aren’t you?”
Robert Holton nodded. “I’m going to a cocktail party; I’m going to Mrs Raymond Stevanson’s.”
“Oh, is that so? You’re really going around in high circles. I guess I shouldn’t be associating with high society like you.” She had meant to speak lightly and humorously but somehow the words had come out all wrong and there was a bitterness in her voice that embarrassed her.
Robert Holton looked surprised; he smiled finally. “Well, it never hurts to know these people. She was a friend of my mother’s,” he explained, trying to explain these things, to make himself appear like her; she hated him for his kindness.