I guess everybody knows that." "No, I haven't," very slowly.
A silence, while Amory thrilled.

There was something fascinating about Myra, shut away here cosily from the dim, chill air.

Myra, a little bundle of clothes, with strands of yellow hair curling out from under her skating cap.
"Because I've got a crush, too--" He paused, for he heard in the distance the sound of young laughter, and, peering through the frosted glass along the lamp-lit street, he made out the dark outline of the bobbing party.

He must act quickly.

He reached over with a violent, jerky effort, and clutched Myra's hand--her thumb, to be exact.
"Tell him to go to the Minnehaha straight," he whispered.