"Let's go to Gimbel's first," she said.
But the other wanted to start in Lord and Taylor's.
They whisked away debating this.
And I went soon—through the leaden atmosphere, on the black and slippery pavement.
The people were there in the office ahead of me.
Mr. So-and-so. Mrs. So-and-so. Miss So-and-so.
The nurse was there, too.
It was where we had come in. Where we all do. Where we leave.
I sat, batting the drops from my trouser cuffs, smelling the damp feathers of the anxious poultry.