There's enough people here, and for that matter a lot of idiots, that somebody will probably try to find out-- [This situation has a lot of aspects Holden doesn't understand; he reaches for his own neck compulsively, but is repulsed by the notion of scratching it, and just rubs at the skin as the sweat only gets worse until he looks the woman in the eyes and tries to grin again.]

And that guy's not gonna be me, or probably not you either, Miss...?