” She laid her hand softly upon his. I'm neither an infidel nor an agnostic, so I'll content myself by saying that the hand of God is in this somewhere. “Yes,” she said, “that is what we ought to do. Sc. The thing is to get the patient on his feet. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. What was the alternative to going home? No alternative appeared in that darkness. ” She was silent, and in the gloom of the dimly lit apartment he could not see her face. "Drink your peg; don't bother about me.
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