The Greek was standing next to their table.

“Come on, kids. I gotta close up now.”

Later, as they walked up Cahuenga, she asked him why he wanted to be an actor.

“Oh, the money, I guess…I always liked movies. I’m a good dancer, you know. And I didn’t want to be stuck in a small town all my life.”

She glanced at his face. He wouldn’t make it. She didn’t know why she knew, but she did. His being was too plain; it was his virtue, his limitation. They stopped in front of a shoe store.

“Look at those red shoes,” she said. “Aren’t they pretty!”

He put his arm around her and his soft hair fell against her cheek as he ducked to kiss her. “I’ll get them for you,” he murmured. She pulled away from him violently. “What’s the matter?” She looked at the few people walking down the street. He saw the direction of her glance. “They’re not thinking about us,” he said. Then, “Come back with me, to my place.”

She was silent.

“Come back,” he repeated softly.

She looked at the red shoes. “But what did it feel like to be you?” she burst out. “Oh, I’ve looked in windows, I have seen people sitting around a table together, but what’s really going on? You’ve told me about basketball games and cows and Sunday dinners and cold winters. Cows! And a graduation ring! And you just decided to be an actor, just decided to come to Hollywood! How does that happen? How do you decide? What does it mean? And you got drunk with your brother and drove the truck into a ditch. What did you feel about it? And your mother made you that blanket and you had a teacher you liked. What it’s like to be you!”

He retreated into the recessed entrance of the shoe store from where he stared out at her in astonishment as though she were about to assault him. A man passed them and looked questioningly at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said humbly. “Come back, come out of there…”

He took a few cautious steps. She smiled. He laughed nervously. “You didn’t do anything to be sorry about,” he said.