“You really are getting to be quite fresh, Izzy.”
“It’s all these gorgeous young men running around. Good thing for me that I’m too old for most of them. Well – here’s where I turn off. Time to hand out milk and sandwiches, and dance with the soldiers.”
“Say hello to Edith for me, if she’s there tonight.”
“The mystery woman,” Izzy said with an air of romance.
“The mystery woman?”
“That’s what some of the girls call her. She has that far-off look about her – not that she’s unfriendly. She’s quick to smile.” Izzy glanced up at the sky, thinking of how to describe Edith. “No, it’s more like she lives in some world of her own. She keeps to herself for the most part – when she’s not with her beau or dancing, that is.”
Lillian looked up suddenly. “Edith?! With a beau? And dancing? Surely not. She’s a confirmed spinster – in spite of her great beauty.” Lillian lowered her voice. “And she’s painfully shy about her limp.”
“Not the Edith I know!” laughed Izzy. “See you, Lilly. Give my regards to Charles.” She started to cross the busy avenue, but spun around to add – “tell Gino I’ll save him a dance when he gets back!” She waved goodbye, and was soon lost in the throbbing Manhattan crowd that was making its way up and down the dimmed-out Times Square.
Izzy must be mistaken about Edith, thought Lillian. She would have to ask Charles. And with that thought, she quickened her step, and hurried home to await his arrival.
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