erself
away and put up a solid block.

"What a mess!" she said, shakily. "Lipstick all _over_ you."

"Why words, sweetheart? That was perfect."

"Oh, it was ... but wide open, with such a mind as yours...." she
paused, then came back to normal almost with a snap. "... but say; I'll
bet that's what Therea and Alsyne were doing. That 'fusion' thing. We'll
practise it tonight."

He pondered briefly. "Sure it was."

"But he said they learned it from us. How could he have, when we.... Oh,
we did, of course, in moments of high stress ... but we didn't actually
_know_ it...." She paused.

"We wouldn't admit it, you mean, even to ourselves."

"Maybe; and of course it never occurred to us--callow youngsters we were
then, weren't we?--that it could be done for more than a microsecond at
a time. Or that two people could ever, possibly, _live_ that way."

"Or what a life it would be. So let's chop this and get back to you and
me."

"Uh-huh, let's," she agreed, but in a severely practical tone. "You've
got lipstick even on your shirt. So change it and I'll go put on a new
face and bring over some stuff and clean you up."

While she cleaned, she talked. "I told you our next kiss would be
different, but I had no idea ... wow! _That_ will be as much different,
too, I'm sure.... Hm-h-h-nh?" Again she pressed herself against him;
this time in a somewhat different fashion.

"Stop that, you little devil, or I'll...." His arms came up of
themselves, but he forced them back down. "... No, I won't. We'll save
that for tonight, too."

"I'll behave myself!" She laughed, pure joy in voice, eyes, and smile.
"I bet myself you wouldn't and I won! You're tall, solid gold, Clee
darling--the absolute top."

"Thanks, sweetheart. I wish that were true," he said, soberly. "But I
can't help wondering if two such hellions as you and I are can make a go
of marriage--no, cancel that. We'll do it--all we have to figure out is
how."

"I know what you mean. Not at first--it'll be purely wonderful then.
After five years, say, when the glamor has worn off and I've had three
of our six children and two of them are in bed with the epizootic and
I'm all frazzled out and you're strung up tight as a bowstring with
overwork and...."

"Hold it! Uh-uh. No. If we can live together six months--or even six
weeks--without killing each other, we'll have it made. It's at first
that it'll be rugged. No matter how rugged it gets, though, we'll know
one thing