Mr Murphy was not in the Statistical office. Everyone else was back, though. As she entered the room Caroline was conscious of a difference in the atmosphere. The women were quieter than usual and the men were watching. She looked and saw, sitting at Holton’s desk, an army officer.
“Jim!” said Holton when he saw him; the other looked up.
“Hi,” he said and he got to his feet. They shook hands with Anglo-Saxon restraint, muttering monosyllables of greeting, each asking about the other’s health.
Kuppelton went to his own desk without speaking to the army officer. Caroline stood expectantly beside Robert Holton, waiting to be introduced.
“This,” said Holton finally, “is Caroline. Caroline, meet Jim Trebling.”
“How do you do,” said Trebling.
“How do you do,” said Caroline and they shook hands. His hand, she noticed, was rough and hard.
“You live in New York?” asked Caroline. This was always a good beginning because it could lead to all sorts of confessions.
He shook his head. “No, I’m from California. I’m from Los Angeles.”
She was impressed. “That’s where Hollywood is, isn’t it? You from Hollywood?”