He paused and looked at her. “Am I talking too much?” “I love your talk.” “I wouldn’t want to get in the habit of talking too much, don’t you know” and then he saw the reflection of her quick smile in the windshield; staring straight ahead, he reached out and took her hand, overcome by a shocking tenderness. For a moment he was struck dumb at a habit of hers he saw now for the first time, how whenever she looked up from whatever she was doing, even unwrapping a sandwich in the front seat of a car, she always looked up smiling. He wondered if anybody had ever noticed it before.
