She nodded.
“You won't make it. It's four-fifteen now.”
“I know it.”
“You're playing a boy,” he mused. “I wonder if that is why you cut off your hair.” He felt brutally daring in saying this. He had never been direct with women or with direct women. But this girl created her own atmosphere which quite enveloped him.
“Yes,” said she simply, “I had to for the part.” Never would he have believed that the attractive woman lived who would do that!
Abruptly, as if acting on an impulse, she pushed back her chair. “I'm going,” she remarked; adding; “You'll find you have friends who know me.”
She was getting into her coat now. He hurried awkwardly around the table, and helped her.
“Tell me,” said he, suddenly all questions, now that he was losing her—“You live here in the Village, I take it?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”