"No. What?"
"I had lunch in a small bakery on Sixth Avenue this noon."
"Well?"
"Guess whom I saw there?"
"Well?"
"Can't you guess?"
"Out with it!"
"Our old friend: Erna Vitek!"
Nielsen turned and stared at his friend. He was unable to speak.
"What do you think o' that?" Breen pursued, unruffled.
"She must have left Allen."
"Yes!"
"And is working again?"
"Yes!"
Nielsen stared at the floor now. He seemed unable to formulate, much
less express, an opinion. "How is she? Changed?" he requested at last.
"Somewhat! She's quite a little harder and a bit more quiet--that is the
way matters appeared to me. But her eyes have lost none of their
boldness. And besides, she seems to like it there."
"She does?"
"Yes, and she's very popular too."
"How so?"
"The men are very attentive, it looked to me," Breen volunteered
significantly.
"And she?"
"She's still got an eye open. Not as wide open, perhaps, as in the old
days, but it isn't closed, that's certain."
Nielsen was silent, reflecting.