Could you put your hand through a wooden door?
Of course.
She smiled happily. She meant to have him.
Hello.
Hello.
There was silence.
She wrinkled her forehead and tapped her knee. He had ceased transmitting.
He'll be back, she thought with satisfaction. I wonder what size suit he wears? I think I'll buy him a nice wool one. I want my husband to look presentable.
Smiling, she went to the phone. She called her bank and ordered her account transferred to the all-night branch in Los Angeles. She wanted to have her money available so she could leave town to go to him the moment she found out where he lived: or (assuming he came to her) to have it handy so she could leave town with him the moment he proposed to her—even if it were in the middle of the night.
After that, she went to the door and put her hand through it.