She melted toward it, into it, would have lost herself in it, but there was a sudden sound, a susurrus of wings, a sad keening wind that brushed past like the hurried but insistent touch of frigid fingers. It drew them apart. They both had felt it. Daniel looked up and down the street that was suddenly dark and empty except for the red taillights of a distant car winking around a bend.

They put their arms around each other and walked on toward Rose’s house.

Speaking would have broken the moment. But there were things that had to be said. Things like seeing each other again, and spending time together. And finally, things to be said about what had just happened.

“It was like something evil had been watching us,” Daniel said.

“I know, I felt it. But it seems so …”

“Unbelievable?”

“Yes. Silly.”

“Murder is evil, not silly.” His fingers, warm now, traced the outline of her face, lingered at her lips. Then he grew practical. “You have a way with you, Rosecleer. Trust your instincts … or whatever they’re called. Trust yourself.”

“But you felt something, too,” Rose said, eager for him to acknowledge that such “gifts” were not hers alone.

He shook his head. “I felt it through you.”

She drew away, but he pulled her back and hugged her.

After a moment he whispered in her ear: “Your mother’s watching. Otherwise I’d kiss you. A real kiss this time.”

“Wasn’t the kiss you gave me real?”

“Just you wait and see.”

“I’d better go in now.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. In full view of Mom staring out the window, he gave her lips a puritan peck.

“ ’Bye, Daniel,” she called, long after he couldn’t hear, just for the chance of saying his name.

When Grace phoned on Saturday to report on her date with Gregory, Rose was capable of only half listening. The date had been a disaster.

“He didn’t talk, Rose,” Grace shrieked in despair. “1 mean it, I’m not exaggerating. He said exactly eight — count ’em — eight words all night.”

“Oh, Grace, how terrible.” Rose thought of Daniel and talking with him for almost an hour on the telephone Friday night, and another hour that morning.

“Want to know what they were?”

“Hmmmm?”

“Rose, are you listening? He said ‘Hi’ when he saw me and he said ‘to the movies’ when I asked him where we were going. Then he asked ‘Want popcorn?’ and after the movie he said it was ‘okay’ and then * ’bye.’ That’s exactly eight words. Eight words in four hours. And he didn’t even take me out afterwards. We passed Lucky’s, and everybody was in there having pizza. But I was actually glad we didn’t go in because I would have been mortified to be seen with him.”

“Yeah,” Rose said.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not concentrating?”

“I am, lam…”