He appeared to be alone; he spoke to
nobody. She stepped out of the way and kept looking across the
audience, as if seeking someone else. He soon arrived, and when he
walked past, she turned and looked at him, as if suddenly noticing him
for the first time.

His smile was as delightful as always. "Good evening, Miss Haviland,"
he said, with a tone of warmth.

"Good evening, Professor." Gretchen thought that he slowed for a
second or two, but she felt acutely embarrassed to be observing him too
closely, and looked away toward the crowd again. He continued walking.

When the professor had passed, Gretchen let out her breath slowly.
Into the thick of the crowd she plunged, and went out through the
lobby. Evening had come on and it was dark outside. Vast hordes were
dispersing across the plaza, pouring from the auditorium. As she
stepped into the bitterly chill air and started down the stairs, a
voice hailed her from behind.

"Are you alone, then, Miss Haviland?"

Gretchen whirled around at the sound of the professor's voice, in time
to see him laugh briefly. He was standing just outside the doors,
facing outward, his greatcoat pulled tightly around himself.

Gretchen went to stand on the step below. "Actually, yes," she
replied, looking up. "I am alone. I came by myself on a whim."

"It's quite chilly this evening," he said, stepping down once. They
started down the stairs beside each other. "Would you fancy a cup of
coffee, by chance, before making your way home?"

Gretchen smiled. He certainly had a forward manner; but she found it
refreshing, and--after all, she had really been seeking him, had she
not? "Why, that sounds like a delightful diversion, Professor. I
believe I shall."

With that, they set off together across the plaza. Gretchen started
immediately upon a likely topic of conversation: the concert they had
just attended. It was instantly evident that Professor Bridwell had
found the Liszt etudes as breathtaking as she had. And during the
Vivaldi, as well, he agreed that he had felt a sudden chill at
precisely the same time as she.

"The ensemble did well," she concluded. "I suppose that is the way
Vivaldi would have heard the work too--none of these large, modern
orchestras quite out of proportion to the delicacy of the music."

"The modern orchestra," stated the professor, "is well enough suited
for modern works, but really, the intimacy required for performing
earlier work