She nodded back. “I was seventeen. I had a crush on you for nearly a month.”
“No wonder. Have you been showing this around?”
“I have not! Damn it, you ought to be touched!”
“Hell, I am touched, but not as much as I was an hour ago. I thought you liked my nose or the hair on my chest or something, and here it was only a childhood memory.”
“What if I feel it coming back?”
“Don’t try to sweeten it. Anyway, now I have a problem. Who else might possibly remember this picture — and there have been a couple of others — besides you?”
She considered. “Gwenn might, but I doubt it, and I don’t think anyone else would. If you have a problem, I have a question. What are you here for? Louis Rony?”
It was my turn to consider, and I let her have a poker smile while I was at it.
“That’s it,” she said.
“Or it isn’t. What if it is?”