I don't know if she blushed but she remained quiet.Once we got to the house I followed her in through the front door and we went into the living room ...here she said that she was going to have a coffee but maybe, because I was drowsy, I should go straight to the spare bedroom. I smiled when I told her that I was in no way drowsy so a coffee would be fine.It was obvious she was nervous when she brought the coffees out and she sat in a chair away from the sofa where I was sitting. I asked her if. . and wondered why she had been so reluctant to give up a night alone in her dumpy apartment for a French meal at Fisherman's Wharf overlooking the San Francisco Bay.She glanced around the restaurant again. The lights were low, the atmosphere hushed. Waiters moved across the deep carpet as quietly as cats. And Francois, her date for the evening, with his lean, handsome face, his classic features, the touch of gray at his temples that made him look even more distinguished than his accent could. More

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