The wife fared no better. Her hair was a tangle of orange and yellow, a chemical mess that seemed to glow against her furious face. Arthur pressed his palm against the glass, breath caught in his throat.
They had gone in. After all his warnings, after all his efforts to avoid this very moment, they had gone in anyway. And now, unmistakably, the water had marked them. The knock came hard, three times in quick succession, rattling the frame.