"I'm from here," he said. "That may have something to do with it. And I just had dinner with my uncle."
She chuckled. "You are also far more articulate than you were on the train," she said. "What was with you on the train?"
"I thought you had caught me staring at you," he said.
"I had," she said. "Why were you?"
"Because you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
"I can't believe that," she said.
"Why did you come back in here?" John asked.
"Ooooh," she said, and then looked at him. "Right to the bone, right? OK. I thought maybe you would be in here."
"I am."
"Did you come in here to pick up a girl?"
"I came in because I didn't want to go home and face my father," John said evenly.
"You did something wrong?"
"He did."
"That's the money you were talking about?"
He nodded.
"And because I had the crazy idea you might be here."
"I am," she said.
"I think maybe I'm dreaming and will wake up any second," John said.
"It's like a dream for me too," she said. "A bad dream. I had the odd notion that when I met my husband, that we could... patch things up. But what he wanted was the Spode... his beloved saw the Spode and wanted it... You know what I mean by Spode?"
"China."
"... and the monogrammed silver. I mean, after all, it would have no meaning for me anymore, would it? I'll certainly remarry in time, won't I?"
"I'm sorry," John said.
"And then here I am, in a bar, more than a little drunk, with a Marine. A boy Marine. Bad dream."
"I'm not a boy," John said, hurt.
"Yes, you are," she said, laughing.
"Well, fuck you!"
There you go, asshole. You fucked it up. Why the fucking hell did you say that?
"Sorry," he said, in anguish.
She opened her purse and he thought she was looking for a cigarette and remembered that Uncle Bill had taken his Zippo so he couldn't light it for her.
But her hand came out of the purse with a five-dollar bill. She dropped it on the bar and stood up.
Now she's going to walk out of here, and I will never see her again.
She looked into his face.
"Come on," she said. "Let's get out of here."
She walked to the side door; and in a moment he followed her. She waited for him to open the door for her, and walked out. Then she put her hand on his arm.
"As long as we both understand this is insane..." she said.
"Where are we going?"
"Rittenhouse Square," she said. "We-I-have an apartment there."
There was a hand on Sergeant John Marston Moore's shoulder and a voice calling gently, "Hey!"
He opened his eyes. He was lying belly down on a bed, his arm and head hanging over the edge. He could see a dark red carpet and a naked foot, obviously a female foot. This observation was immediately confirmed when he saw that the leg attached to the foot disappeared under a pale blue robe.
He remembered where he was, and what had happened, and rolled over onto his back.
She was standing there, holding a cup of coffee out to him.
I don't even know her name!
"Hi!" she said.
"Hi," he replied, looking into her eyes. "What's that?"
"Coffee," she said.
"Coffee?"
"You said you had your father's car. I don't want you driving drunk."
"You're throwing me out?"
"I'm sending you home."