Norman grabbed her, slung her over his shoulder, started for the door.
"Put me down! Put me down!" she cried, kicking vigorously.
"Are you coming along quietly?"
"No!"
He carried her into the hall, made for the elevator, pressed the button.
"Norman," she pleaded in consternation. "Put me down before that
elevator gets here."
"Are you coming quietly?"
"Yes. For heaven's sake, yes!"
He placed her on her feet. She brushed her black hair from her eyes,
straightened her white tunic with a wriggle.
"Oh!" she said, "of all the indignities!" But the corners of her lips
kept trying to break into a grin. "Would you really have hauled me to
your car like that in front of everybody?"
"Yes," he replied seriously.
In spite of herself Jennifer burst into laughter. "You know, sometimes
you're the most amazing rogue I've ever met. I can't stay angry at you
for ten minutes."
The city of Behrl had been built around the enormous blow hole through
which escaping gasses in some distant geological age had burst to the
surface of Neptune. Beyond its outskirts lay a hilly country matted
with undergrowth. The road kept getting worse and worse until finally
it ended abruptly on the slope of a hill.
Norman brought the car to a stop. "End of the line," he said and hopped
out. Jennifer followed him.
"Well," said Jennifer glancing at the weird vegetation about them.
"Where do we start?"
"I don't know," he confessed. His eyes swept the country. A thick
growth of small shrubs matted with creepers cloaked the hillside. The
air smelled rich, hot, fertile.
"By Jove," he exclaimed, "what's that?" He pointed to a bare spot a
quarter of a mile away. It was several acres in extent. And even in the
rosy sunlight it seemed to pulse with a phosphorescent light.