“And if I should ask you to stay here with me?”
“What? Do you realize what you are saying? In ten minutes I must be in the auditorium.”
“And ‘all the Numbers must take the prescribed courses in art and science’,” said I-330 with my voice.
Then she lifted the curtain, opened her eyes,—through the dark windows the fire was blazing.
“I have a physician in the Medical Bureau; he is registered to me; if I ask him, he will give you a certificate declaring that you are ill. All right?”
Understood! At last I understood where this game was leading.
“Ah, so! But you know that every honest Number as a matter of course must immediately go to the office of the Guardians and—”
“And as a matter not of course?” (Sharp smile-bite) “I am very curious to know; will you or will you not go to the Guardians?”
“Are you going to remain here?”
I grasped the knob of the door. It was a brass knob, a cold, brass knob and I heard, cold like brass, her voice: