“Did you know I was here in New York?”
“I knew you had been. I saw your work——”
“But anywhere my work appears—a letter sent in care of the paper or magazine would find me——”
“We—I mean women—do not write that way——”
“I know—I know.... But I didn’t have anything but the name, ‘Betty Berry’——”
“It seemed that night after I left you at the Armory everyone was talking about John Morning. And to think I supposed you just a soldier. Everywhere, it was what John Morning had done, and what he had endured—and I had spent the afternoon with you. I started to read that story about your journey, but I couldn’t go on. It seemed that I would die before I was half through your sufferings.... I would try to think of the things we said, but they didn’t come back. I couldn’t rest. I was glad you asked me to come again. I could hardly wait for the morning—to go back to the Armory——”
He had no answer. They were in a cross-town car.
“But I think I understand. We won’t say anything of that again....”
“You went back to the Armory that next morning?”