"Honest to goodness, now, aren't you really pretty tired of me?" she asked earnestly, turning to face him.
"No, I can't say I am. You're pretty special, doctor, and you're special pretty." It was a ritual.
"You know you're the only man. I'll marry you. Will you sign?"
"Of course I'll sign. I would have anyhow when I knew you wanted me to. And Babs—maybe we could get some sort of jobs now—sort of to get in practice. I'll bet we could rent a lab somewhere and do commercial analyses for a while until we got hit by another idea for research."
"Rod, that's the best idea you've had in the last hundred and fifty years. But we could have a honeymoon first, couldn't we?"
"That's your best suggestion in the last seventy years. And maybe we could get Jeery Wade and his wife to rejuvenate and go with us. After the first couple of weeks, that is."
hey left the meeting arm in arm, somewhat ahead of the rather disgruntled group of directors, who stayed behind to lament the end of a good thing. In the garden room, Barbara stopped to choose an orchid.
Rod Harris wandered on to the receptionist's desk, where the girl of the black curls waited, smiling.