I’ve just seen him. The car ride to the new movie theater, a multiplex, was brief and harrowing. As soon as he was gone, the two women divested themselves of their hoods and cloaks, and threw them, as if inadvertently, into the farthest part of the angle in the wall. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. This is the first act. "Don't ask me about it now. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world.
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