"Do you think he'll get back tonight?"
"I don't know. Perhaps."
"I wonder what he's doing right now," George persisted after a silence.
Rogers did not answer.
"You don't think anything could have happened to him, do you?"
"No. I--I hope not."
"I hope he brings that girl back with him," George said after another
silence. "I certainly would like to meet her."
Rogers plucked a flower from the trellis beside them, breaking it in his
fingers idly. "He may get back tonight. It was our idea that--"
He stopped abruptly, and simultaneously George gripped him by the arm.
They both saw it; a little blob of radiance in the air just beyond the
flower trellis; a shining spot small as a puff of tobacco smoke gleaming
silvery in the moonlight.