[ He’s about to let out a sheepish sort of laugh, about to murmur, “Uh, yeah, I’m sure there’s at least... one...” but she marches off with far more purpose than usual. He blinks at her retreating back, hurrying to keep up. ]
What’s the rush?
[ On something of a laugh, if only to mask his unease. ]
no subject
What’s the rush?
[ On something of a laugh, if only to mask his unease. ]