HELLO,” the woman said, smiling.
“Hello.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” At least, the woman had recognized her, Therese thought.
“Do you have any preference as to restaurants?” the woman asked on the sidewalk.
“No. It’d be nice to find a quiet one, but there aren’t any in this neighborhood.”
“You haven’t the time for the East Side? No, you haven’t, if you’ve only got an hour. I think I know a place a couple of blocks west on this street. Do you think you have time?”
“Yes, certainly.” It was twelve fifteen already. Therese knew she would be terribly late, and it didn’t matter at all.
They did not bother to talk on the way. Now and then the crowds made them separate, and once the woman glanced at Therese, across a pushcart full of dresses, smiling. They went into a restaurant with wooden rafters and white tablecloths, that miraculously was quiet, and not half filled. They sat down in a large wooden booth, and the woman ordered an old-fashioned without sugar, and invited Therese to have one, or a sherry, and when Therese hesitated, sent the waiter away with the order.
She took off her hat and ran her fingers through her blond hair, once on either side, and looked at Therese. “And where did you get the nice idea of sending me a Christmas card?”
“I remembered you,” Therese said. She looked at the small pearl earrings, that were somehow no lighter than her hair itself, or her eyes. Therese thought her beautiful, though her face was a blur now because she could not bear to look at her directly. She got something out of her handbag, a lipstick and a compact, and Therese looked at her lipstick case--golden like a jewel, and shaped like a sea chest. She wanted to look at the woman’s mouth, but the gray eyes so close drove her away, flickering over her like fire.
“You haven’t been working there very long, have you?”
“No. Only about two weeks.”
“And you won’t be much longer--probably.” She offered Therese a cigarette.