No, he was not from Hollywood. He lived near by.
“I’d certainly like to visit out there.”
“It’s not as interesting as New York.”
She gave a little laugh to show her scorn for New York, her laugh leveling the buildings and cracking Grant’s Tomb. “It’s awful here,” she said. “We have an awful climate.”
He raised the buildings again. “Oh, I think it’s pretty exciting. You’ve got so many things. This is really the first time I’ve seen New York. Bob and I went overseas from here and we came back here but I never really saw the town.”
“Are you regular army?” she asked. Men in uniform were becoming rare.
“No, I’m getting out soon. I signed up for a little while longer.”
“Oh.”
He and Robert Holton began to talk then about the army and she felt shut out. She stood there wondering whether she should go or not. She rather liked this young man. He was a lieutenant, at least he had one bar on his shoulder and she thought that lieutenants wore a single bar: the war had been such a long time ago and she had forgotten so many things.
He had dark eyes and bleached-looking hair which Caroline had always found attractive in men. His skin was rather pale for a Californian; all Californians had brown skin in her imagination. He was not particularly handsome, though he looked rather distinguished, with sharp features and circles under his eyes.