He forced himself to steal a glance at her, then let out a sigh of relief. Her two legs were once more just like any other girl's. Illusion, he decided, was at times the Bread of Life.
"And now," he said, "you can answer those questions of mine."
But just then there was more rapping at the door.
"This time girl friend," Dytie told him optimistically.
But Phil was taking no more chances. He switched on the one-way peephole first, and looked straight into the face of Dave Greeley.
When Phil whispered "Federal Bureau of Loyalty," to Dytie, she jumped up. During his long narrative she had asked him several questions about that organization, he had answered them in detail, and she had apparently formed some very definite conclusions. "We got beat it, Phil. No time question-answer now." And she lightly sprang to the window sill and walked across the ladder.
It wasn't as long as the beam at the Akeleys', but it was ten times as high and Phil wasn't drunk. If he hadn't crossed the beam at the Akeley's and gone down the service chute at the Romadkas', he would never have dared it. His heart was hammering as he let himself down into Dytie's room. He turned around with some vague idea of removing the ladder. He heard a crash in his room. Dytie grabbed him.
"No time now," she said. And she urged him out of her room into the corridor.
Seconds later they were entering the elevator on her side of the building. "Hey, that's the up button," he warned as she punched it.
"I know, Phil," she said reassuringly.