"You already learned what happens when you try and kiss me, do you really want to revisit that?" she challenges Howard, hoping that he can remember the brisk temperature of the Thames. She's not looking at Howard, though, still gaping back at Steve like he's not actually real.

He can't be real, can he? How on earth can he be here and real?

"It would have been much better not to accost me in an alleyway, no," she agrees, but she's staring at him and she can feel the lump in her throat growing. She had mourned him, even if she'd never let him go, and now he's here and he's alive. "Were you conscious?" she asks, tenderly reaching for his cheek. "Could you feel the cold?"