He looked at a picture on her desk of a bald, pleasant-faced fellow with a pipe.
She followed his eyes and said with a sort of shy pride: "That is Dr. Mordecai, of the University's Faculty of Dentistry. Like myself, a long-time celibate. We plan to marry."
The Commander said: "Do you feel that Dr. Mordecai might like to meet my daughter?"
"No. I do not. We expect to have very little time for outside activities, between our professional careers and our personal lives. Please don't misunderstand, Mr. Freeman. I am still your daughter's friend. I always shall be. But somehow I no longer find in myself an urgency to express the friendship. It seems like a beautiful dream—and a quite futile one. I have come to realize that one can live a full life without Miss Freeman. Now, it's getting quite late—"
He smiled ruefully and rose. "May I wish you every happiness, Professor Speiser?" he said, extending his hand.
She beamed with relief. "I was so afraid you'd—"
Her face went limp and she stood swaying drunkenly as the needle in the ring popped her skin.
The Commander, his face as dead as hers, disconnected his hand and sheathed the needle carefully again. He drew one of his guns, shot her through the heart and walked out of the apartment.
Old fool! She should have known better.