"No," in surprise. "What would I be doing with money?"
"Here's ten thousand credits—Patrol funds. Take it and—"
"He will not!" the nurse stormed. "No! You can't, Admiral Haynes, really. Why, a bride has got to buy her own clothes!"
"She's right, Haynes," Lacy announced. The admiral stared at him in wrathful astonishment, and even the girl seemed disappointed at her easy victory. "But listen to this: As surgeon general, et cetera, in recognition of the unselfish services, et cetera, unflinching bravery under fire, performance beyond and above requirements or reasonable expectations, et cetera, et cetera, Sector Chief Nurse Clarrissa MacDougall, upon the occasion of her separation from the service, is hereby granted a bonus of ten thousand credits. That goes on the record as of hour twelve today. Now, you red-headed young spitfire, if you refuse to accept that bonus, I'll cancel your resignation and put you back to work! What do you say to that?"
"I say QX, Dr. Lacy. Thanks a million, both of you—you're perfect darlings and I love all two of you!" The gaspingly happy girl kissed them both, then turned to her betrothed.
"Let's go and walk about ten miles, shall we, Kim? I've got to do something or I'll explode all over the place!"
And the tall Lensman—no longer unattached—and the radiant nurse swung down the hall.
Side by side, in step, heads up, laughing; a beginning symbolical indeed of the life which they were to live together.
THE END.