When she had entered, her face had taken on the placid look that everyone wore—unwittingly, but inevitably—the instant they came near Alcorn.
Finding Kitty's cool blonde loveliness projected so abruptly against the bleak polar plain of his waking dream, he knew how much more she was than either fiancee or secretary alone. She was a beacon of reassurance in a sea of uncertainty.
"Thanks, darling," he said, and looked at his watch. "I'd have woolgathered past my appointment and it's an important one."
He stood up. Kitty came closer and put both hands on his shoulders.
"You've had another of those dreams, haven't you? I wish you'd see a—a doctor about them."
He laughed, and if the sound rang hollow, she seemed not to notice.
"That's why I asked you to call me. I've made an appointment with one."
She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "I'm glad you're decided. You haven't been yourself at all for a week, Philip, and I couldn't bear a honeymoon with a preoccupied husband!"
He managed the appropriate leer, though he had never felt less like it. The apprehension that followed his daytime chimera was on him again, so strongly that what he wanted most to do was to take Kitty's hand tightly, like a frightened child, and run headlong until he was beyond reach of whatever it was that threatened him.