 Why couldn't most people tell Matilda where Haron lived?
She had been known to say that there are over a billion men in the world, a goodly percentage of whom are eligible bachelors, and that the right one would come along simply because she had been waiting for him. She would read them carefully and then read them again, looking for the masculine names which, through a system known only to Matilda, had an affinity to her own. Someone in Nebraska wanted to trade match books; someone in New York needed a midwestern pen pal, but it was a woman; an elderly man interested in ornithology wanted a young chick correspondent interested in the same subject; a young, personable man wanted an editorial position because he thought he had something to offer the editorial world; and— Matilda read the next one twice. The name—Haron Gorka: its oddness was somehow beautiful to Matilda. Cedar Falls was a small town not fifty miles from her home, and she'd get there a hop, skip, and jump ahead of her competitors, simply by arriving in person instead of writing a letter. Then the widow Penshaws told Matilda that she could never hope to sneak about the house without her mother knowing about it, and that even if she were going out in response to one of those foolish ads in the magazines, she would still need a good breakfast to start with like only mother could cook. Matilda knew he would peer over his glasses and answer questions grudgingly. Matilda asked him where she could find Haron Gorka.
 he hadn't been in Cedar Falls for long
 he was a very secretive person  he hadn't been in Cedar Falls for long  he wanted to hide from the interested women  he used another name when out in public