"Beat it. Over in one of the other chambers--"
"No. I mean before that. You called me--" She flushed. That was one
thing, Larry discovered, about these clothes of the future. A flush was
a real flush, no halfway thing. It started from--
He said, suddenly gentle, "I called you 'darling.' Do you
mind--darling?"
"I think," she replied softly, "it's the prettiest word I ever heard."
Then she applied that fine feminine attribute for which there is no
allowance in man's equations; a woman's logic. "But it is _not_ the
word to make me get out of here. I stay, Larry. Beside you--where I
belong."