She looked annoyed and increased her stride toward the door.
"It's a matter of life or death," I said. I wanted to wrest the bag from her and hurl it out through the doorway into the street, but I restrained myself.
She stopped and stared. I noticed a short, fat man in a rumpled suitcoat and unpressed pants staring, too. Ignoring him, I said, "Please put the bag down. Over there." I indicated a spot beside a telephone booth where it would be out of the way.
She didn't move. She just said, "Why?"
"For God's sake!" I took the case. She offered no resistance. I put her bag and mine next to the booth. When I turned around she was standing there looking at me as if I had gone out of my mind. Her eyes were blue and brown-flecked, very pretty eyes, and my thought at the moment was, I'm glad the bomb didn't go off; these eyes wouldn't be looking at me or anything else right now if it had.
"I've got to talk to you. It's very important."
The girl said, "Why?" I was beginning to think it was the only word she knew. At the same time I was wondering why anyone would want to kill someone so lovely.
"I'll explain in a moment. Please stand right here while I make a telephone call." I moved toward the phone booth, paused and said, "And don't ask me why."
She gave me a speculative look.
I must not have seemed a complete idiot because she said, "All right, but—"