It was about half past eight when the elegant man with the ill-trimmed beard came in. He was very handsome, and he said all the nicest things to her, about her cooking and her curly hair and the way the color of her eyes changed with the light. She had been startled and flustered, and blushed like a schoolgirl. She offered him a pie. He offered her a flower. She raised her eyebrows and called him a flatterer. He leaned across the counter and kissed her soundly on the lips.

He went upstairs for a shave. He didn't come back down.