29.
The poet had one last bowl of soup, then picked up her bag. She looked around the walls of the shack; the wind rattled them, and poked through at them both. She looked at the mathematician, and thought he looked a little thin, despite all the potatoes and beans. Sometimes, in the wind, he shivered.
"There is one truth I have learned here," she said. "Which is that I enjoy your company, even here in this bitterly cold shack. I think I would like it even better in the warmth, by the murmuring ocean, under the coconut palms. Will you come with me?"