“Has he?”
Silence—a long one.
“Jimmie—I—I don’t want any supper.”
“Why?”
“I—I think I want to go home.”
“Just as you say.”
“Jimmie—what—what’s wrong?”
His eyes scanned the beauty of her, steel buckles, silken dress, rose-laden hat. They ended on the glossy pearls and his lips which had opened for speech snapped shut.
He drove her home, without a word lifted his cap.
“Jimmie—please—please don’t act that way.”