"Right here?"
She laughed and opened her coat. She hadn't bothered dressing.
"Where else?"
I was up to it. As I held her, I realized that I did not want it to end like this.
"You could come with me," I said. "I'd like it if you would. I'd like to have you around," and I kissed her full on the mouth and held her to me with almost all of my strength. For a moment, it seemed that I felt something wet on her cheek against mine. Then she turned and broke my embrace with a single gesture and pushed me away.
"Go on," she said. "You're not that good. I've got better things to do."
Her scarf seemed to be blowing, though there was no wind. She turned quickly and started back toward the car. I began to follow her.
Her voice became hard again, harder than I'd ever heard it.
"Get aboard that boat now," she said, her back to me. "Do it!"
Again the compulsion, very real this time.
"All right," I said. "Goodbye, and thanks," and then I had to go.
Much later that night, Joe and I pushed the two limestone statues over the side into the Gulf Stream. I leaned on the rail for a long while after that, before I realized I had forgotten to tell her that Percy was coming. Later, the sun rose up at my back, turning the sea to a fleece of gold in the west.