— You know her, she says. — Noreen? I’ll take it, Arthur said. Just a minute. He got up and closed the door to his cubicle. He was still visible through the glass as he sat and turned toward the window, distancing himself from all that was going on, the dozens of customers’ men, some of them women, which once would have been unthinkable, looking at their screens and talking on the phone. His heart was tripping faster when he spoke. — Hello? — Arthur? The one word and a kind of shiver went through him, a frightened happiness, as when your name is called by the teacher. — It’s Noreen, she said. — Noreen. How are you? God, it’s been a long time. Where are you? — I’m here. I’m living back here now, she said. — No kidding. What happened? — We broke up. — That’s too bad, he said. I’m sorry to hear that. He always seemed completely sincere, even in the most ordinary comments. — It was a mistake, she said. I never should have done it. I should have known. The floor around the desk was strewn with paper, reports, annual statements with their many numbers.
