He turned in bewilderment to Ellen. "Something's wrong! Nela isn't inside."
Ellen looked gravely thoughtful. "Andy, I think I know what happened to her. She was an authority on Twentieth Century life, you know. She no doubt had all sorts of records to help her. She could speak the kind of English used here, she understood social customs, the economic situation, knew how to dress and act. What she didn't know, she could pick up by being careful and observing. In short, she could pass as an ordinary Twentieth Century girl, and hardly anyone would guess she was different."
Pearce's bewilderment grew. "What are you getting at?"
"Well, Andy, suppose this Nela wanted to make absolutely sure you'd be happy in the future, that nothing would interfere with your efficiency and general well-being. There was a big job ahead of you, and a lot depended on your particular field of knowledge and type of skill. So to make absolutely sure of you she stopped off along her route back to spend your last several months here with you. It wouldn't be hard for a clever girl like her to get acquainted with you and Dave. And you hadn't seen her for fifteen years, Andy. You wouldn't recognize her easily—especially if she'd had her hair cut short and wore Twentieth Century clothes and make-up."
Pearce stared at her a moment longer, then caught at her arms. "Ellen! You ... you're Nela!"
She nodded slowly, her smile uncertain and touched with shyness. "I hope you aren't disappointed, Andy, or that you hate me for having tricked you the way I did."
He laughed, a wild delight surging up in him. "Neither," he said. "And I'm going to prove it!"
He proved it to her entire satisfaction. Finally, hand in hand, they turned to the doorway of the globe.
"I suppose you brought the machine here by remote control or something of the sort," Pearce told Nela.
"Yes. I had a special gadget in my purse. The machine was here all along, you see, traveling a few minutes ahead in time."