"I am here," Pam answered, in her old clear voice.
The man did not move. He remained there motionless, seeming to take the words as an intimation that she would accompany him. Pam held out her hand for the basket that the Spawer was swinging with an assumption of negligence and ease.
"Thank you," she said.
The dark figure of the man embarrassed all speech. The Spawer handed the basket over into her hands without a word.
"And the serviette..." he said, drawing it from his pocket.
Pam received it from him and thanked him again.
Then there was a slight pause.
"Good-night!" she said.
"Good-night!"
They shook hands with a strange and ludicrous politeness.