How would you interpret the last sentence?
An assignation. First of the new year. Tommy’s attention seems to be wearing thin. Lying on his back blowing smoke rings, his eyes kept going to the window like a bird trapped indoors, wanting out. Rather than gazing upon the spectacle of me, sitting in the Morris chair all bundled up in my long knitted scarf. Mrs. Brown’s Christmas present. If I can keep her long enough I shall be warm as a lamb, head to toe. I thought of getting out last year’s gloves and putting those on too; the little room was freezing.
Maybe I’m only imagining Tommy has gone cool. What do I know of hearts in winter? He’s tired, I know that much. And disappointed. No job in advertising yet, still a traveling salesman for Art, in Washington all last week before coming here. Something at the National Gallery.