"Oil!" Deston exclaimed, involuntarily, as everything fell into place in his mind. The way she walked; poetry in motion ... the oil-witch ... two empires ... more millions than he had dimes.... "Oh, you're Barbara Warner, then."
"Why, of course; but my friends call me 'Bobby'. Didn't you—but of course you didn't—you never read passenger lists. If you did, you'd've got a tingle, too."
"I got plenty of tingle without reading, believe me. However, I never expected to——"
"Don't say it, dear!" She got up and took both his hands in hers. "I know how you feel. I don't like to let you ruin your career, either, but nothing can separate us, now that we've found each other. So I'll tell you this." Her eyes looked steadily into his. "If it bothers you the least bit, later on, I'll give every dollar I own to some foundation or other, I swear it."
He laughed shamefacedly as he took her in his arms. "Since that's the way you look at it, it won't bother me a bit."
"Uh-huh, you do mean it." She snuggled her head down into the curve of his neck. "I can tell."
"I know you can, sweetheart." Then he had another thought, and with strong, deft fingers he explored the muscles of her arms and back. "But those acrobatics in plus gee—and you're trained down as hard and fine as I am, and it's my business to be—how come?"
"I majored in Physical Education and I love it. And I'm a Newmartian, you know, so I teach a few courses——"
"Newmartian? I've heard—but you aren't a colonial; you're as Terran as I am."
"By blood, yes; but I was born on Newmars. Our actual and legal residence has always been there. The tax situation, you know."