She withdrew the application from the talk-typer and initialed it. She raised her eyes. "I censored your reference to the forbidden books," she said. "It would have rated you at least two years in Purgatory if the Marriage Administrator had seen it. You really should be more careful about what you say, Mr. Bartlett."
I'd forgotten all about the meticulous little machine tap-tapping silently away on the desk. I felt like a fool. "Thanks," I said.
"One of the reverend psychiatrists will interview you on the top floor. You'll find a waiting room at the head of the staircase."
I started to turn, then paused. I didn't know why I paused; I only knew that I couldn't let it end like that.
"I wonder," I said.
"Yes?"
"You obtained a lot of information from me but I don't know a single thing about you. Not even your name."
The blue eyes had become arctic lakes. Then, suddenly, they filled with the sparkling warmth of spring. A smile dawned on her lips and her face became a sunrise.
"Julia," she said. "Julia Prentice."
"I'm glad to have known you," I said.