456
PARTISAN REVIEW
"Oh thank
you,"
I said. "That is-I
mean-bow
nice."
"Not at all," she
answered and
took out
three pins, depositing
them
among
the
dingy folds of
the
altering skirts.
Then Miss Hotch did a very surprising thing. She looked
carefully about the room, went to the window and examined the
landscape, returned and whispered gently to me in her gentle voice,
"The reason I asked if you were a stranger in town is-" she
paused and cautiously searched the room with her brown eyes.
There was no one there. "-is" she continued, "that
I
don't trust
strangers."
"No? Why?"
I
asked before
I
realized.
"Why! Why indeed!" her eyes leaped flame, "Because you
don't know who a stranger
is,
that's why!" She smiled trium–
phantly. "Me,
I
believe in freedom of speech."
"Why, so do
1," I
said. "But then-"
I
pondered, "But then,
everyb_ody's a stranger at first!"
I
exclaimed brightly.
Her eyes burned into me.
"That is,"
I
continued feeling shy again, "most people are.
That is, some people are-."
Was
I
a stranger?
I
thought.
I
scanned my life's history. It
lengthened behind me like a winding road. The familiar past
receded in the distance, just beyond the last curve of conscious·
ness. And like a sudden flight into some strange land
I
was stand–
ing here in this room. Yes,
I
was certainly a stranger.
Miss Hotch stood safely on her two feet and looked at me.
"I
had a boarder here last
month,"
she said.
"Oh?"
I
asked.
"Just ' last month," she nodded emphatically, pushing me
around to look at the skirt.
"Anybody
I
know?"
I
asked rather aimlessly.
"I
should hope not," she said.
"He
was
!J.
stranger."
"Oh."
"He looked-" her voice sank meaningfully, " -foreign!"
"Oh," my
mouth
flew open in horror.
"Yes, that's what I said," she nodded to me with an approv–
mg smile which I accepted gratefully.
"Well, was he?" I asked.
"Foreign,
I mean."
"I never found out," she said crisply, "that is, it was never
