"Yes, Ken?"
"Lou, how long are you going to be here? Or in New York? What I mean
is--"
"I'll be around," Lou said. "I will be going back to New York of
course; after all, Ken, I do have a living to make, such as it is, and
Sir Lewis is expecting me."
"I don't know," Malone said, "but it still sounds funny. A girl like
you working for ... well, for the Psychical Research people. Ghosts
and ectoplasm and all that."
Suddenly Lou wasn't in his arms any more. "Now, wait a minute," she
said. "You seemed to need their information, all right."
"But that was ... oh, well," Malone said. "Never mind. Maybe I'm
silly. It really doesn't matter."
"I guess it doesn't, now," Lou said in a softer tone. "Except that it
does mean I'll be going back to New York pretty soon."
"Oh," Malone said. "But ... look, Lou, maybe we could work something
out. I could tell Sir Lewis I needed you here for something, and then
he'd--"
"My, my," she said. "What it must be like to have all that influence."
"What?" Malone said.
Lou grinned, almost invisibly. "Nothing," she said. "Nothing. But, my
fine feathered Fed, I don't want to be pulled around on somebody
else's string."
"But--"
"I mean it, Ken," Luba said.
Malone shrugged. "Suppose we table it for now, then," he said, "and
get around to it later. At dinner, say ... around nine?"
"And just where," Luba said, "will you be before nine? Making improper
advances to the local contingent of chorines?"
"I will make improper advances," Malone vowed, "only to you, Lou."
Lou's eyes sparkled. "Goody," she said. "I've always wanted to be a
Fallen Woman."
"But I have got some things to do before nine," Malone said. "I've got
to work, too."
"Well, then," Lou said in a suspiciously sweet voice, "suppose I talk
to Sir Lewis Carter, and tell him to keep you in New York? Then--"
"Enough," Malone said. "Nine o'clock."
[Illustration]