Julie paused in her frenzied gropings and looked out at him. She lowered the window just a crack with an unnerved hand.
"Beat it, you—you apparition!" she quavered. "I can't see you, I really can't! So it's no good your pretending you're there. You're not, and I know it. Go away!"
"Apparition?" Marc said. "I'm no apparition. Julie, it's me—Marc!"
Julie's gaze steadied a trifle. "You're sure?" she asked. "You're really there?"
"Of course I am. Let me in the car, please, dear."
She hesitated, but in the end she opened the door, reached out gingerly and touched him. Then, with a smile of reassurance, she slid over to make room for him beside her.
"Oh, Marc!" she cried. "I'm so glad it's you. I thought I saw you just sort of fade away in there and ... I guess I've been out of my mind with worry."
Marc reached out an arm and drew her close to him. "It's all right, dear," he said. "It's all over now."
"But the doctors said you had to be operated on. They said you were dying."