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Summary
The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they, while their companions slept, were toiling upward in the night.
--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
They agree to go back, to pretend that it never happened, that it was never more than flirting and innuendo and a bit of fun. (Time doesn’t work like that.) They intend to remain investigative partners; they don’t talk of much, but it comes up one night on the ship—the classes mingle and their paths cross and somehow they had need to come up with some definition and that’s what comes out, in a funny oblique little way that defines them more than anything they can say. (Life doesn’t work like that.) Maybe it is a bad idea, but at least it is something to stifle the loss, even if that loss is better than what they had found in Europe. (People don’t work like that.)
Or, what happens when I try to fix something someone else broke.
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