“Good morning. I wanted — how are you?”
“I’m fine. And you?”
“I’m fine too. I just had my breakfast and I wanted to phone you. There was no place at the table but mine.”
“Good. In the long run that’ll save a lot of breakage on dishes.”
“It will save more than that.” A pause. “You took the coat and hat with you.”
“I did, and for God’s sake don’t tell me you want them back. I disposed of them.”
“I’ll never want them back.” She sounded quite positive. “When I went to the hall, long after you had left, and saw that the coat and hat were gone, I cried like a baby. When I quit crying I was scared. I was afraid I had been crying because the coat and hat were gone, but then I realized that wasn’t it, only I didn’t know what it was. Anyhow I quit worrying about why I had cried because I knew one thing for certain — I knew I was glad the coat and hat were gone, and I knew you had done a wonderful thing for me after the way I acted. I guess you understood why I acted like that. I’m a terrible coward, I always have been. I’m such a coward that three times yesterday afternoon when I started to phone you I simply couldn’t make my finger turn the dial.”
“You could have—”
“No, please! Let me finish or I won’t. I slept better than I have for a long time — I don’t know when. I had a wonderful sleep! And while I was eating breakfast, there where you were with me yesterday, I realized how it was. I realized that I had to do anything you asked me to do, anything — only of course not — I mean, anything you would ask me — that is, anything I can do. So just tell me what it is.”
“I told you yesterday.”