but before I could say thanks and good-bye, she started out onto the fire escape after me.
"Let's see your place. I've never been there. Before you moved in, the two little old Wagner sisters wouldn't even say good morning to me."
She crawled through my window behind me and sat on the ledge. "Come on in," I said, putting the groceries on the table.
"I don't have any beer, but I can make you a cup of coffee."
But she was looking past me, her eyes wide in disbelief. "My God! I've never seen a place as neat as this.
Who would dream that a man living by himself could keep a place so orderly?"
"I wasn't always that way," I apologized. "It's just since I moved in here.
It was neat when I moved in, and I've had the compulsion to keep it that way. It upsets me now if anything is out of place."
She got down off the window sill to explore the apartment. "Hey," she said, suddenly, "do you like to dance? You know—"
She held out her arms and did a complicated step as she hummed a Latin beat. "Tell me you dance and I'll bust."
"Only the fox trot," I said, "and not very good at that." She shrugged.
"I'm nuts about dancing, but nobody I ever meet—that I like—is a good dancer.
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