Guy lifted his left hand from hers and stroked her hair. "Anything you want," he promised.
"You're a grand person," she said.
The music stopped, and Maynard felt that the spell of the evening stopped with it. They found Alice, Timmy, and Martin at the bar, and Martin called for drinks for them. "A final nightcap," he said, "to a perfect evening."
They agreed to his toast.
"And now," said Martin practically. "As to getting home."
"Yes, indeed. Who lives where?"
"We are in Florida," said Timmy. "We can catch us a cab."
"The rest of us—at least Guy and I are from Sahara Base," said Laura. "But Guy's flier is in New Jersey."
"Shame to make you travel all that way," said Martin. "Should have thought of that when I demanded that we all take my crate. I'm deucedly sorry, Guy."