"You tell me when I get to Bundy," I said. "I'm not exactly familiar with this part of town."
She told me, and we got to Wilshire, eventually, and on Wilshire there were many eating places.
We went into one; it was too cold to eat outside. And it was bright in there, and I got my first really clear look at the face and figure of Jean Decker.
Well, it was ridiculous, the attraction that seemed to emanate from her. It actually made me weak.
And she was staring at me, too.
"If you're hungry," she said finally, "get a sandwich. You won't find me stingy.... What in the world is that material in that suit, Fred?"
"I don't know," I said. "You are beautiful, Jean."
She smiled. "Well, thanks. You can have a piece of pie, too, for that. That certainly is a fine weave in that material. What did your tailor call it?"
We were next to a sort of alcove, furnished with a table and two high-backed benches, and she sat down. I sat across from her.
