Franny was among the first of the girls to get off the train, from a car at the far, northern end of the platform. Lane spotted her immediately, and despite whatever it was he was trying to do with his face, his arm that shot up into the air was the whole truth. Franny saw it, and him, and waved extravagantly back. She was wearing a sheared-raccoon coat, and Lane, walking toward her quickly but with a slow face, reasoned to himself, with suppressed excitement, that he was the only one on the platform who really knew Franny’s coat. He remembered that once, in a borrowed car, after kissing Franny for a half hour or so, he had kissed her coat lapel, as though it were a perfectly desirable, organic extension of the person herself.

 – Franny And Zooey (1961) by J.D. Salinger

Bibliography: 
Salinger, J.D.  Franny And Zooey. New York: Little, Brown and Company, 1961. Print.

Image Credit:
Picture by Sophie Jodoin from Newzones Gallery of Contemporary Art Facebook Page