When Mathilde emerged from the subway into the sunlight of City Hall Park, Pete was nowhere to be seen.

She had spent several minutes wandering in the subterranean labyrinth which threatened to bring her to Brooklyn Bridge and nowhere else, so she was a little late for her appointment; and yet Pete was not there.

He had promised to be waiting for her.

This was a more important occasion than the meeting in the museum and more terrifying, too.
Their plans were simple.

They were going to get their marriage license, they were going to be married immediately, they were then going to inform their respective families, and start two days later for San Francisco.
Mathilde stared furtively about her.