"Not yet, Robert," she whispered. She let him feel the slight but firm resistance so nicely calculated to breach his own; watched the deepening flush of his cheeks with the clinical sureness that a thousand such experiences with men had given her.
Then, "Come in, Robert," she said, moving back a step. "I've been waiting for you."
She noted, approvingly, that Robert was in his spaceman's uniform, ready for the morrow's flight, as he went past her to the couch. She pushed the button which closed and locked the door, then seated herself beside the young spaceman on the silken couch.
His hands rested on her shoulders and he turned her until they faced each other.
"Ninon," he said, "you are so beautiful. Let me look at you for a long time—to carry your image with me through all of time and space."
Again Ninon let him feel just a hint of resistance, and risked a tiny pout. "If you could just take me with you, Robert...."
Robert's face clouded. "If I only could!" he said wistfully. "If there were only room. But this is an experimental flight—no more than two can go."
Again his arms went around her and he leaned closer.
"Wait!" Ninon said, pushing him back.
"Wait? Wait for what?" Robert glanced at his watch. "Time is running out. I have to be at the spaceport by dawn—three hours from now."