He turned to the padwar who was in charge of our escort. "Hold them here until I return," he said, and, rising from his desk, he left the apartment.
"He seemed to recognize your name," I said to Tavia.
"How could he?" she asked.
"Possibly he knew your family," I suggested; "at least his manner suggested that we are going to be given some consideration."
"I hope so," she said.
"I feel that our troubles are about over, Tavia," I assured her; "and for your sake I shall be very happy."
"And you, I suppose," she said, "will endeavor to enlist aid in continuing your search for Sanoma Tora?"
"Naturally," I replied. "Could anything less be expected of me?"
"No," she admitted in a very low voice.
Notwithstanding the fact that something in the demeanor of the official who had interrogated us had raised my hope for our future, I was still conscious of a feeling of depression as our conversation emphasized the near approach of our separation. It seemed as though I had always known Tavia, for the few days that we had been thrown together had brought us very close indeed. I knew that I should miss her sparkling wit, her ready sympathy and the quiet companionship of her silences, and then the beautiful features of Sanoma Tora were projected upon memory's screen and, knowing where my duty lay, I cast vain regrets aside, for love, I knew, was greater than friendship and I loved Sanoma Tora.