"All right."
While she was waiting, she studied herself despairingly in the mirror. I look, she thought, like something the cat dug up.
When Walt came back, she took his arm possessively.
"I'm hungry," he said.
"Oh?" Julia said. "We'll have time to eat, I guess. I wish we didn't have to eat hotel food, though. I'm a good cook." She led Walt to the door. "You'll see what I mean, if we can get this invasion stopped. I'm going to make you invisible, now."
After they ate, Julia drove her car to the airport. The reservations were waiting. So was the F.B.I. man.
"I teletyped my report to them. They wanted me to accompany you."
He introduced himself to Walt.
Walt shook his hand. Walt no longer recoiled from the touch of an earthling.
In the plane, the F.B.I. man ordered cocktails. Walt had never tasted alcohol before. It was an unpleasant taste. But once it was down, it was not objectionable.