“There were ninety-seven New York advertising men in the hotel, and, the way they were monopolizing the long-distance lines, the girl in 507 had to wait from noon till almost two-thirty to get her call through.”

The opening description of busy telephone lines immediately establishes the miscommunication that will plague characters in The Search for Meaning and Connection. Even when Muriel and her mother do finally connect, they say relatively little of substance, underscoring the superficiality that characterizes much of postwar society.

“I told your father you’d probably call last night. But, no, he had to—Are you all right, Muriel? Tell me the truth.”

Throughout her conversation with her daughter, Muriel’s mother expresses concern for Muriel and her safety. The unfinished thought, which occurs near the beginning of their conversation, and her repeated requests to know if Muriel is all right all heighten the tension. Her request for “the truth” also proves ironic in a story where most characters lack emotional honesty.

“He drove? Muriel, you gave me your word of— […] Did he try any of that funny business with the trees?”

Muriel’s mother refers indirectly to an incident involving Seymour and trees. Later dialogue renders her meaning somewhat clearer, but the vagueness of the initial allusion is significant. In addition to creating suspense, it prevents Seymour’s actions from being fully comprehensible and thus mirrors his alienation from society. That the characters do not describe the event in more detail also suggests their discomfort with the reality of Seymour’s situation.