 Why couldn't most people tell Matilda where Haron lived?
The best that could be said for Matilda Penshaws was that she was something of a paradox. 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. But she laughed and thought that if she was, she was, and, meanwhile, she could only get to Cedar Falls and find out. Matilda knew he would peer over his glasses and answer questions grudgingly. Matilda asked him where she could find Haron Gorka. First place, I don't know any Haron Gorka—" Matilda kept the alarm from creeping into her voice. Matilda did, only they didn't know any Haron Gorka, either. It turned out that no one did: Matilda tried the general store, the fire department, the city hall, the high school, all three Cedar Falls gas stations, the livery stable, and half a dozen private dwellings at random. As far us the gentry of Cedar Falls was concerned, Haron Gorka did not exist. If she could not find Haron Gorka, that was one thing; but she knew that she'd rather not return home and face the widow Penshaws, at least not for a while yet. Twenty years from now, this could be Matilda Penshaws—complete with plain gray dress, rimless spectacles, gray hair, suspicious eyes, and a broom-stick figure....
 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