This was the first young man who had drawn from her something more than speculative interest. “Think how dumb we find ourselves and stifled! I know we seem to have a sort of freedom. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. But she made a pretence of struggling a little, for it would be out of character for her not to do so and she did not want to arouse his suspicions. Wood, when he does return, I'd send him about his business.
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