It was a good thing he hadn’t looked to see what she was reading. She had grabbed the first thing at hand when she woke up. She laughed softly, remembering his righteous engineer’s horror the first time the subject of ESP came up. Now he could joke about it, mostly.... _You better watch out--my girl can read minds. She studies up on it_.... But in the ugly aftermath of the dream, if he had noticed, he would have seized on it furiously. Well, it had all worked out. This time. She opened the book and read, sipping at coffee, till she felt ready to sleep again. Then she went back to bed. PART TWO _Thursday, June 23, 1977_ _New York City--1_ P.M. (_E.D.S.T._) He was only ten minutes late. _Pretty good--for me_, he thought ruefully. The image of Doc Bronski came alive again behind his eyes, the pink-cheeked old man listening and nodding while a much younger Phil Kutler talked importantly about his future plans. _Good!_ the old doctor said. _Good!_ Then at the end, straight-faced: _Good! For you it’s right. Only once a day you got to get someplace. The rest of the time, your patients worry about being on time._... Usually, he made sure to keep it that way; he did not ordinarily go out for lunch. But on Thursdays, one to three was free and--for some reason he had not yet examined--he had been very reluctant to have Lisa come to the office. Half-way down the block, he saw her in front of the restaurant. She was wearing green, a startling sea-green with a soft full skirt that seemed to float around her legs. She stood alone, very straight, with the dancer’s solidity under her slenderness that always took him by surprise. He noticed, too, that in her flat green sandals she somehow had the posture of a woman in high heels; and that she stood without any impatience; and that something about her kept the other people who hurried heedless along the sidewalk, from bumping or brushing her. _She’s a good waiter_, he thought. Whatever had held her attention across the street released it. She turned and saw him, took a step forward as he hurried up. “I’m sorry,” he started. “You know how--” He saw her smile start. “You didn’t have to wait out here. I had a table reserved.” “I was enjoying it.” She glanced across the street. “They’re gone now. There were two girls waiting for someone over there--just kids, they looked like--and three boys came down from the loft building next door here and kept watching them. Then one of them went across, and the girls wouldn’t talk at first, and I guess they were mad at their dates or whoever they’d been waiting for. Anyhow, they got together, and--” She laughed, and took his arm. “--I’ll tell you this, you almost lost _me_. The third boy looked so _lonesome_--” They sat down and ordered drinks. “I ordered lunch before,” he told her, “They make a good _cacciatore_ here, but you have to wait if you don’t give them notice.”