Two people took the vacant places at the same table, so, in a few moments, Anne and Roger finished and went. It was another day of sunshine and dusty wind.
"I don't feel parky, to-day, do you? Then let's walk." Anne turned north and Roger walked close beside her.
They walked slowly, Anne tingling with consciousness of Roger's nearness, and of their isolation from others, in a new understanding that had come to them. All these hurrying strangers were the world, flowing around the little island on which she and Roger stood alone.
Block after block they walked in a silence rhythmic with shared dreams and hopes that seemed to throb in unison with the perfect harmony of their step.
Roger spoke first: "There was another call from Wainwright this morning while I was out and he left word for me to see him this afternoon."
"I guess he wants a decision," Anne said casually.
"Yes. Yes, that's it, no doubt."
"Don't do anything you don't want to do." Anne's voice was even, indifferent to the issue. Roger pressed her arm.
"Anne, you're a trump. The grandest little chum a fellow ever had."
Anne nodded valiantly. "And some hiker. Look where we've walked to. Clear out to the City Hall."