The poet knocked on the mathematician's door.
"I need to go for a walk," she said.
"In your condition?" he asked. "Is that wise?" (The poet had recently become quite large and waddly, although the mathematician was too clever to say that part out loud. Mathematicians are clever that way.)
The poet said, "I'm afraid I have no choice in the matter."
The mathematician sighed, and then said, "I suppose I had better come with you."
The poet smiled and said, "Thank you."
They said goodbye to their houses and set off, the mathematician kindly carrying the poet's bag. (It was all she could do to carry herself at this point.) It took longer than usual to reach her old friends, the crows at the crossroads. Nathan and Stephan were asleep when they arrived, but the thump thump thumping of the poet's feet woke them right up.