on, found a slow five-toned waltz.
She turned the music very low, and left the color mixer dim enough so
that only the faintest ghosts projected hues moved on walls and ceiling.
Mary continued to stare into the mirror. "But he will come. I know it."
June said nothing.
"Don't you see. I just _know_ he'll come."
June crossed back to her seat.
Mary turned from the mirror. "I'm sure he will. He's--I mean...."
June smiled wanly.
"Well, he will! You'll see!"
June said, "Even if it is an old dress, you look very nice in it."
"I've been learning his language. I can say 'thank you' and 'yes' and
'no' and 'I love you' and all kinds of things in it. He gave me a book,
and I've been studying. I want to be able really to talk with him. We've
got a lot to talk about. I want to find out about his parents, and what
he likes for supper and what kind of music he likes to hear, and--and
all sorts of things. I want to find out all about his planet, and...."
"Yes," June said wearily, "I know."
The music played on. The moving lights on the walls were like colored
reflections from a sunlit river.
"He may be a little late tonight; he has a lot to do, first. But he'll
be here."
_Buzzzzz_....
It was the red button; it blinked on and off.
"Visitors," June said.
"Look--" Mary said. "Look, June. I'm not half ready yet. Look. Tell Miss
Bestris I'll be down a little late. Tell her I have a special boy, and
it'll be all right. He wants me to wait for him."
June was on her feet. "... All right. You'd better not wait too long!"
"I won't."
After June was gone, Mary returned to the task of making her face
pretty, but after a moment, she turned from the mirror, leaned back, and
tried to relax. Underneath her dress, her heart was pounding.
The warm air carried sounds of the night creatures. One of the great
canal insects, screeching, flapped by the window. The tiny third moon
crept up over the horizon, and the buildings cast triple shadows.
_Buzzz. Buzzzz._
Still Mary waited.
_Buzzz. Buzzzz. Buzzzzzz...._
She was afraid to wait any longer. But by now she was sure that he would
be down stairs.
There was a last-minute flurry of combing and primping, and then she
rustled out of the room, her head erect, her eyes shining.
* * * * *
The large reception room was filling. Overhead, the color organ threw
shimmering, prismatic beams on the ceiling. Beneath it, stiff,
embarr
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