When I saw him standing in line, hands empty, looking at me, I started to get a bad feeling. I recognized him immediately as having come in and purchased a book the night before. I considered that I had better come up with some sort of gentle explanation, but my thoughts were preoccupied with attending to the customer in front of me and when he at last stepped up to the desk and introduced himself it was worse than I had imagined. He had prepared a speech. He was very candid about his intentions. My eyes dropped anxiously from his face to the desk between us. I couldn't decide which was worse: to look him in the eyes or to not look at him at all. Had he been planning this since last night? It was unfortunate that I had not, too, had the opportunity to prepare some words, something at least better than, "That's very nice of you but I just don't...do that. I'm sorry."
His face fell. "Oh," he said. Where hopefulness had appeared a moment earlier, something resembling cold understanding--perhaps even resentment--momentarily flickered. He turned and walked away, hurried out the store without looking back.
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