The bright haze receded; Sam's senses grew sharper. He felt constrained by clothing. There were people at tables, and they were staring. This was a restaurant, but everyone was silent. Why? Sam turned from the onlookers, peered down at his tight black dress, then saw the hand in his. Sam's gaze slipped to the other hand – the one which, quivering, held out the ring. He looked at the face: clean shaven, earnest, blue eyes glistening in the candlelight. From his own journeys, and his intuitions, Sam knew: this man loved her, and he would make it work.

"Yes."

Sam leaped.