‘It ain’t a question of what they believe …’

‘I know, but it is. They’re doing what they believe. I can’t act that way. Even if they decided I was all right I couldn’t go along with them.’

‘You couldn’t?’

‘No.’

They crossed the fourth street. Dimly, two blocks away, he could see the glow of light from the candy store. He took longer breaths now, mounted the sidewalk. ‘I couldn’t,’ he said, ‘and neither could you. You’re too fine a person.’

She did not respond. He waited. He could feel her mind groping itself toward expression.

‘You been talking to him too much, Lully,’ she said deliberately, nodding a little toward the glow ahead of them.

‘Not since I asked him to move,’ he assured her quickly.

‘According to them they never do anything wrong. Just like in the picture, they’re always innocent lambs. They don’t show you the things they done, though.’

‘You’re wrong, Gert. You’re wrong about that.’

‘You been talking to him too much …!’

‘I haven’t been talking to him too much.’ His voice became high, argumentative. ‘I’ve been thinking to myself, though. And you ought to do it too. I just don’t think it’s right to have people going around beating up on them. I don’t think it’s right and I won’t have anything to do with it.’

‘You don’t see Fred blowin’ around the streets. He’s got a spot. You don’t take this serious enough. I keep telling you and telling you.’

They crossed the fifth street and stepped onto the sidewalk. ‘All I can tell you is what I told you,’ he said. ‘We’ve got a house and good jobs and … And I think if the war ends soon you can stop working.’

He had not really meant to say it, but it worked well – her arm softened in his hand and she drew him closer to her side.

‘You really mean it?’ she asked, excitedly.

She must be smiling now, he thought happily. ‘Sure, sweet. I …’

The sound was light. A tap the weight of a raindrop. But it was there. It cut his words out of his teeth and left him open-mouthed. Now it came again. The gentle tapping of soles on pavement. Several of them … in step … now out of step …

Behind him. Possibly a quarter of a block. Several … he could not make out exactly how many, drumming lightly on the pavement. He counted them … one pair … two … three … lost count and the rhythm of the steps overlapped. She had her head up. Automatically they were both walking with great propriety again. Slightly – an inch at a stride – they gained speed.

Somehow it was sure, he knew it … There was a mental wave of connection between the walkers behind him and himself. People in a group never walk without talking. Their silence behind him created a vibration in the dark and it played upon his spine.