"Think nothing of it," the girl said. "Anyhow, we're not in any trouble, and we would have been by now, if you see what I mean."
"I'm glad." He was no more than polite. There was no more in him, no emotion at all. He had reached a blank wall: there was no escape for him or for the Alberts. He could see nothing but pain ahead.
And so he had turned off the pain, and, with it, everything else.
"Do you come here often?" the girl was saying. He had been introduced to her once, but he couldn't remember her name. It was there, filed away....
"Greta Forzane," he said involuntarily.
She smiled at him, leaning a little forward. "That's right," she said. "And you're Johnny Dodd. And do you come here often?"
"... Sometimes." He waited. Soon she would stop, and he could leave, and....
And?
"Anyhow, it was just as much my fault as yours," Greta was saying. "And there's no reason why we can't be friends. All right?"
"Of course."