“When are you going away?” He asked. “Carolyn loves ‘Fiddler on the Roof. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ’ ‘Oh, don’t I? What do you have under all those petticoats, a holster?’ ‘But yes, and they are empty. You know—I worship you. She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. " So saying, he bowed and departed. The place was crowded, and the people about her were almost equally made up of very goodlooking and enthusiastic young people and a great variety of Goopes-like types. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. As silent as she had remained about who had brought her home last night. ‘And I wouldn’t be no sort of a man if I’d heard what I heard, and gone off and left you.
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