n shrugged. "Depends on how things turn out. We
lack a lot of being safe ourselves yet."

"What's worrying me mostly is our own chance," Bradley assented. "They
will chase us, of course."

"Sure, and they'll have more speed than we have. Depends on how far away
the nearest Triplanetary vessels are. But we've done everything we can
do, for now."

Silence fell, and Costigan cut in Clio's phone and came over to the seat
upon which she was reclining, white and stricken--worn out by the
horrible and terrifying ordeals of the last few hours. As he seated
himself beside her she blushed vividly, but her deep blue eyes met his
gray ones steadily.

"Clio, I ... we ... you ... that is," he flushed hotly and stopped. This
secret agent, whose clear, keen brain no physical danger could cloud;
who had proved over and over again that he was never at a loss in any
emergency, however desperate--this quick-witted officer floundered in
embarrassment like any schoolboy; but continued, doggedly: "I'm afraid
that I gave myself away back there, but...."

"We gave ourselves away, you mean," she filled in the pause. "I did my
share, but I won't hold you to it if you don't want--but I _know_ that
you love me, Conway!"

"_Love_ you!" the man groaned, his face lined and hard, his whole body
rigid. "That doesn't half tell it, Clio. You don't need to hold me--I'm
held for life. There never was a woman who meant anything to me before,
and there never will be another. You're the only woman that ever
existed. It isn't that. Can't you see that it's impossible?"

"Of course I can't--it isn't impossible, at all." She released her
shields, four hands met and tightly clasped, and her low voice thrilled
with feeling as she went on: "You love me and I love you. That is all
that matters."

"I wish it were," Costigan returned bitterly, "but you don't know what
you'd be letting yourself in for. It's who and what you are and who and
what I am that's griping me. You, Clio Marsden, Curtis Marsden's
daughter. Nineteen years old. You think you've been places and done
things. You haven't. You haven't seen or done anything--you don't know
what it's all about. And whom am I to love a girl like you? A homeless
spacehound who hasn't been on any planet three weeks in three years. A
hard-boiled egg. A trouble-shooter and a brawler by instinct and
training. A sp ..." he bit off the word and went on quickly: "Why, you
don't know me at all, and there's a lot of me tha