He wanted so much to sit beside her, to be friends with her.
But, he felt, it took courage to sit beside her. She was likely
to stare haughtily at him. However, he did go up to the rail
and sit, shyly kicking his feet, beside her, and she did not
stare haughtily. Instead she moved over an inch or two, glanced
at him almost as though they were sharing a secret, and said, quietly:
"I thought quite a bit about you last evening. I believe you
really have an imagination, even though you are a salesman--I
mean so many don't; you know how it is."
"Oh yes."
You see, Mr. Wrenn didn't know he was commonplace.
"After I left here last night I went over to Olympia Johns', and
she dragged me off to a play. I thought of you at it because
there was an imaginative butler in it. You don't mind my
comparing you to a butler, do you? He was really quite the
nicest person in the play, y' know. Most of it was gorgeously
rotten. It used to be a French farce, but they sent it to
Sunday-school and gave it a nice fresh frock.
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