The first clerk in the telegraph booth in the Baltimore Station
whistled through his buck teeth at the second clerk:
"S'matter?"
"See that girl--no, the pretty one with the big black dots on her
veil. Too late--she's gone. You missed somep'n."
"What about her?"
"Nothing. 'Cept she's damn good-looking. Came in here yesterday
and sent a wire to some guy to meet her somewhere. Then a minute
ago she came in with a telegram all written out and was standin'
there goin' to give it to me when she changed her mind or somep'n
and all of a sudden tore it up."
"Hm."
The first clerk came around tile counter and picking up the two
pieces of paper from the floor put them together idly. The second
clerk read them over his shoulder and subconsciously counted the
words as he read. There were just thirteen.
"This is in the way of a permanent goodbye. I should suggest
Italy.
"Lois."
"Tore it up, eh?" said the second clerk.