“Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. And as she was yet waiting for her tea to come she saw this man again. As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. He's going to ask you to Prom. She could tell that they too would find their legs jutting awkwardly from the petite furniture. It’s all right. We LIKED each other well enough. Moreover, he's a Yale University man, and he'd be good company. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door.
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