"Strange," he said. "I always dreamed of a girl named Joan. What's your
last name?"
She kissed him.
Overhead, the swallows he had created--_his_ swallows--wheeled in wide
circles above the lagoon, his fish darted aimlessly to and fro, and his
city stretched, proud and beautiful, to the edge of the twisted lava
mountains.
"You didn't tell me your last name," he said.
"Oh, that. A girl's maiden name never matters--she always takes her
husband's."
"That's an evasion!"