Her demeanor had alerted him to something wrong; her stammering confirmed it. She may as well have been shouting that fact in plain words. "My apartment isn't far from here," he said. "Or we can go somewhere more public, if you'd like." He turned back to the streets ahead of them, not staring at her, but concentrating on the feel of her hand. Her pulse, the little jump of muscles. There was more beyond words and facial tics to judge a person's reaction from. If she said one thing and meant another, he intended to know.