In the glow of the Air’s screen and backlit keyboard, Milgrim was huddled at the desk, cowled in the MontBell sleeping bag. He’d tried sleeping, but had kept getting up to check Twitter. On the sixth or seventh try, her response had been this number in the United States. On checking her card, he’d seen that it was her cell number. Some research in the paper telephone directory under the swatch books had provided the necessary dialing prefixes. "The one with the pants?" he asked, hoping he was wrong.