Who walked you home?\" Mike asked her, his voice tinged with jealousy, as she passed the garlic bread. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. One comes at last to the step from dreams to reality. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her. ’ ‘How do you do?’ Gerald said pleasantly, stepping from the pillared portico and coming down the shallow stairway. Still —there you are!” He paused. “Who?” She asked. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present. They were the same. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. “Hi Lucy.
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