Flushed and hot, Cornith reached to his breast pocket for a handkerchief. He was astonished to find a large Spanish rose protruding from the pocket. He held it in his hand and stared at it in stunned silence. Lucy Hollowell extended a small white hand and took the rose from him. She held it against her cheek until he saw that her lips and the rose were the same color. Then she fastened it in her platinum hair where its warm red petals contrasted brilliantly.
"Er, uh. I was saying—" Cornith began lamely.
"That she's a bag of bones," a voice behind him finished.
Cornith whirled, and the same voice in a distant part of the room said, "Over here!" Cornith jumped. He puzzled for a moment and then it dawned over him that those small voices had the same deep huskiness that Lucy Hollowell's voice had. He turned back to her and smiled weakly.
"You were inviting me to go to the laboratory with you?" Lucy said.
Cornith nodded. "Thought it might interest—" He broke off abruptly, his mouth hanging open. He could not believe his ears. He was hearing his own voice, or a fair imitation of it, repeating his earlier words, "Gawky ... beanpole ... tagging...."
"Stop that!" he said abruptly.
Silence reigned and Lucy Hollowell remained in rigid immobility. And while Cornith stared, her peachblown cheeks became pink, then red. The veins in her lovely neck swelled and throbbed. She turned slowly on tottering legs and gently collapsed into Cornith's arms.
"What th—?" He twisted his neck and looked at the blonde in frantic appeal. "What's the matter with her? Can't you do something?"