“I’d like it better if you didn’t use words like that,” the girl said. “There’s no necessity to use a word like that.”
“What do you want me to call it?”
“You don’t have to call it. You don’t have to put any name to it.”
“That’s the name for it.”
“No,” she said. “We’re made up of all sorts of things. You’ve known that. You’ve used it well enough.”
“You don’t have to say that again.”
“Because that explains it to you.”
“All right,” he said. “All right.”
“You mean all wrong. I know. It’s all wrong. But I’ll come back. I told you I’d come back. I’ll come back right away.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I’ll come back.”
“No, you won’t. Not to me.”
“You’ll see.”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s the hell of it. You probably will.”
“Of course I will.”
“Go on, then.”
“Really?” She could not believe him, but her voice was happy.
“Go on,” his voice sounded strange to him. He was looking at her, at the way her mouth went and the curve of her cheek bones, at her eyes and at the way her hair grew on her forehead and at the edge of her ear and at her neck.
“Not really. Oh, you’re too sweet,” she said. “You’re too good to me.”
“And when you come back tell me all about it.” His voice sounded very strange. He did not recognize it. She looked at him quickly. He was settled into something.
“You want me to go?” she asked seriously.
“Yes,” he said seriously. “Right away.” His voice was not the same, and his mouth was very dry. “Now,” he said.
She stood up and went out quickly. She did not look back at him. He watched her go. He was not the same-looking man
