She did not think for one moment what interpretation he might put upon the word “lover. She had pushed aside her azure veil, taken off her snow-glasses, and sat smiling under her hand at the shining glories—the lit cornices, the blue shadows, the softly rounded, enormous snow masses, the deep places full of quivering luminosity—of the Taschhorn and Dom. I love. “Have you ever kissed a guy before?” She rolled the tissue into a ball in her lap and stared at it. I spend many delightful hours thinking of the pleasant and beautiful things of life. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind.
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