Once they were outside, James still did not calm down. He paced the terrace, then abruptly looked up and asked, "Are you happy with me, Wendy?"

Wendy looked at him as if he had lost his mind, and he continued, "Do you feel safe? Do you think of me as a friend, or maybe more?"

"Where is this coming from, James?" Wendy asked. "Hadn't we just decided to get to know each other before we answered these questions."

James grabbed her shoulders, looking into her eyes with urgency, "We are running out of time."

Wendy drew back, slightly frightened by his sudden exigency, "How so?"

Instead of responding immediately, he began mumbling to himself, "I thought he wouldn't come, not for at least another week."

"Who? Are you in trouble, James?" Wendy asked, concerned.

James looked up, then nodded, "Trouble. That's right, I'm in trouble. We need to leave now."

"Leave? Without a chaperone," Wendy said, shocked.

"I'll take you home," James said persuasively. "We'll tell your parents you weren't feeling well."

Wendy hesitated, but then nodded, "But let's tell them now. I don't want them to fret."

And before he could stop her, she turned and entered the ballroom. Instead of following, James sighed and slumped onto the banister, "It's started."