Day must be stretching itself somewhere.

She got up, quickly.
How could she say it?
She was losing him.
"Are you angry with me, Marty ?" she asked, trying to fumble her way to honesty.
"No, Joan.

But it's very late.

You ought to be in bed." "Didn't you think that I should miss you while you've been away ?" "No, Joan.Look.

It's half-past two.