Dimanche interrupted his thoughts. "I suppose you know what she thinks of you."
"She made it plain enough," said Cassal wearily. "A teddy bear. A brainless, childish toy."
"Among the Huntners, women are vigorous and aggressive," said Dimanche. The voice grew weaker as the ship, already light-years away, slid into unfathomable distances. "Where words are concerned, morals are very strict. For instance, 'dear' is never used unless the person means it. Huntner men are weak and not over-burdened with intelligence."
The voice was barely audible, but it continued: "The principal romantic figure in the dreams of women...." Dimanche failed altogether.
"Manche!" cried Cassal.
Manche responded with everything it had. "... is the teddy bear."
The elation that had been missing, and the triumph, came now. It was no time for hesitation, and Cassal didn't hesitate. Their actions had been directed against each other, but their emotions, which each had tried to ignore, were real and strong.
The gravitor dropped him to the ground floor. In a few minutes, Cassal was at the Travelers Aid Bureau.
Correction. Now it was Star Travelers Aid Bureau.
And, though no one but himself knew it, even that was wrong. Quickly he found the old technician.