"I didn't mind when they used the tablecloths to draw on," he said. "I didn't really object when they took the tablecloths and made Warren use 'em as engineering sketches to make things from. But now, dammit, it looks like they're going to move into my refrigerator and for God knows what! I give up!"
"Joe," said Arden sympathetically, "have one on me."
"Don't mind if I do," chuckled Joe laconically. "If I'm to be shoved out of mine own bailiwick, I might as well enjoy these last few days."
He was finishing the drink as the technical section of Venus Equilateral returned, laden with equipment.
Arden shrugged. "Here we go again," she said. "Once more I am a gadget widow. What do you recommend, Joe? Knitting—or shall I become a dipsomaniac?"
Joe grinned. "Why not present Don with a son and heir?"
Arden finished her glass in one draught, and a horrified expression came over her face. "One like Don is all I can stand," she said in a scared voice. Then she smiled. "It's the glimmering of an idea, though," she added with brightening face. "It stands a fifty-fifty chance that it might turn out to be a girl—which would scare Don to death, having to live with two like me."
"Twins," suggested Joe.
"You stay the hell out of this," said Arden good-naturedly.
Walt Franks re-appeared, headed out of the restaurant, and returned a few minutes later with another small case full of measuring equipment.