“Should I have been offended because you came into the Park to find me? And why did you? Do you find me interesting?”
“So interesting,” he said, “that I don’t know what I shall do when you go away.”
Another pause; she was deeply absorbed with her own thoughts. He watched her, the color still in his face, and in his eyes a growing fascination.
“I’m not out,” she said, resting her chin on one gloved hand, “so we’re not likely to meet at any of those jolly things you go to. What do you think we’d better do?—because they’ve all warned me against doing just what you and I have done.”
“Speaking without knowing each other?” he asked guiltily.
“Yes.... But I did it first to you. Still, when I tell them about it, they won’t let you come to visit me. I tried it once. I was in a car, and such an attractive man looked at me as though he wanted to speak, and so when I got out of the car he got out, and I thought he seemed rather timid, so I asked him where Tiffany’s was. I really didn’t know, either. So we had such a jolly walk together up Fifth Avenue, and when I
said good-by he was so anxious to see me again, and I told him where I lived. But—do you know?—when I explained about it at home they acted so strangely, and they never would tell me whether or not he ever came.”
“Then you intend to tell them all about—us?”
“Of course. I’ve disobeyed them.”
“And—and I am never to see you again?”