"A hundred and fifty million people—"
"Save out a few million, Phil. Not everybody has the sordid past or no past at all—or none to speak of. Some just grow up naturally."
"I'd like to meet 'em."
"Oh—" she sat down near me—"you'd never know, anyhow. Because if you found out—or anybody found out—they couldn't go on being natural any longer. It's against the law to be a person in this world. Naturalness—that relaxation I spoke of—has to stay in the bootleg department, to stay at all."
"Pity."
"You're telling me!" She thought awhile. "I'll give you some news. I don't know whether Hattie would, or not. Marcia's here."
I waited till a small shock was absorbed. "Yeah?"
"Came in this afternoon."
"What doing?"