"I refuse to say more, on the grounds I might start feeling like I'm passing notes in junior high."

Hal's ring produces a smallish green clock, an insistent one. Hal rises from his chair.

"Ah. I have to go. Take care of yourself, Sara Sidle. And bring a pen for that crossword next time. Confucius or not, I think you're ready for it."

Hal winks and walks to the door.