Peter's gaze—he seemed to find it difficult to focus his eyes, was laborious about it—finally rested on their table. Slowly he got through the crowd, approaching them. He jostled one of the girl waiters; and turning, apologized with rather extraordinary formality. The girl glanced after him, curious.
The Worm looked around, perceived an unoccupied chair at a neighboring table, lifted it over the heads of his neighbors and set it down beside his own. Peter dropped into it, saying, “I'm sorry to disturb you two... something has come up.” The Worm found it rather uncomfortable. His first impulse was to withdraw and let Peter and Sue talk. But people were looking at them; there were audible whispers; he decided to do nothing conspicuous. He sat back in his chair and studied the menu again. “I'll know the thing by heart pretty soon!” he thought.
Peter leaned forward, toward Sue. She was watching him calmly, the Worm thought; but she was a little hushed. There was no escaping the conversation that followed. Peter managed to keep his voice fairly low; but it was plain that he barely realized where he was. The whole engine of his mind—racing now at several thousand R. P. M.—was headed inward.
“We'll have to quit the pictures, Sue, dear. I can't tell you the whole story now—not here—but Zanin has absolutely broken faith. He has wrecked me... not that I mind that... it's the crookedness of the thing... the ideals he professed... he's sold us out, it's a dirty commercial scheme after all that he's dragged you into.”... The inner pressures were evident now in Peter's voice. It was still low, but it shook and came out jerkily and huskily. He was stopping frequently to swallow.
Sue's fingers strayed toward the fork; turned it slowly. Her eyes followed her fingers. A waitress came toward them, stood unnoticed and turned away, exchanging an amused glance with friends at the next table.
“It's a complete smash,” Peter went on. “Any way you look at it, it's a smash. There's just that last step to take—we must get out.”
“Please—” Sue murmured, “not here!”
“But, Sue—”
“Don't, Peter. We can talk later.”
“But there's nothing to say.” Now the Worm caught in his voice Peter's uncertainty of her. “Is there, Sue?”