She watches him covertly, uneasily, longing for the end of the run.
Motors in the night.
And the dull determination growing, strengthening.
The airport, baggage, the ancient taxi with the piston slap, and at last the dark, familiar street.
"Jim, you're back! Oh, Jim, darling. Next time they send you west I'm going too. I am!"
"Okay, Jean, sure. Why not?"
"What's the matter, dear? Oh, you're tired, of course. I should have known. Sit down, Jim. Let me get you a drink."
"In a minute, Jean." Do it now now NOW! "Where's Joanna?"
"She's in bed. Hours ago. Jim, has something—?"
"Nothing, dear. I just want to look in on her. And freshen up a bit, of course."