The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. The pain in Cathy and Shari Beck’s faces upset him the most, but the posters with a close up of her face they had put all over town made his heart ache more. “Glaciers?” she said. The threadbare remainders of the dinner discussion hovered over the topics of obsessive fans of the science fiction and horror genres. She was still good at following orders. He was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always upon the practical side of life.
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