"Hello," Winthrop said. "Where are you going?"
"To the skating rinks."
"Oh, you can't. They're closed."
Her face grew solemn. "But Mommy and Daddy said I could." She was about to cry.
He felt a bachelor's inadequacy. "Where are they?" he asked.
"Over in the bot—bot—" She struggled valiantly and then said, "the flower gardens!" She eyed the book eagerly. "May I see the comics?"
Comics? Oh, the book!
He handed it to her wordlessly, saw her eyes show immediate, outright horror. He stared aghast as she threw it down and ran wildly away, her skates forgotten on the grass, her broken sobs and screams echoing back.
He called after her uselessly. Stunned, he watched the little scurrying figure vanish along the broken road toward the botanical gardens, wishing that he could follow her and solace her, cursing himself for ever having thought of showing her the book.