door and pulled off Juri's galoshes. "Where's your chum?" he asked, seeing that there was only "Working an all-night diner. Juri gets off at eight." Woody automatically glanced at his watch, and was glad that Juri didn't see him do it. It was only just past eleven. He began fiddling with the big wooden radio which stood next to the door to the small kitchen, where Susan was preparing something. "Not too loud, please," Juri cautioned. "Touchy neighbors." "Right, I understand." Woody found a program with some more slow dance music, adjusted it to a soft level, and turned off the overhead light in favor of a smaller lamp beside the door. Sitting down on the short sofa, he loosened his tie a bit and ran his eye along the row of books on a shelf above the radio. There was one by Sigmund Freud, and another by Jane Austen; but Woody had never heard of them. He closed his eyes until he heard her reenter the room a few moments later.
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