"Your requirements demand," the blonde replied unemotionally, "a woman who is very obedient. When you told her to 'stop that!' she stopped everything, including breathing."
"Oh!" Cornith sighed in relief. "So that's it!"
"Better tell her to begin breathing again," the blonde said casually.
"But the requirements shouldn't be taken that literally," Cornith argued.
"She won't take everything literally. An understanding between you will straighten that out. But meanwhile, you'd better tell her to breathe again."
Cornith looked down at the lovely face which had now regained its normal peachblown color. He was astonished to see a tiny bit of deep azure beneath an eyelid that wasn't quite closed. Instantly the lid closed tightly, quivered a trifle and remained shut. Cornith's mind worked swiftly, reconstructing events from the beginning, and he recalled the swelling veins, the careful turning to fall into his arms, the flushed cheeks which were not the color that normally precedes fainting. He noticed now the shallow, controlled breathing, and he felt a slight tremor in the soft warm body he held in his arms.
Drawing her close, Cornith said, "This ought to make her snap out of it," and pressed his lips firmly against hers.
"No, no, Mr. Cornith!" the blonde exclaimed. "The requirements say that she is supposed to swoon when you do that."
It was true. Lucy Hollowell seemed to revive and then swoon in ecstasy. She slumped limply in Cornith's arms while a faint tremor ran through her warm body. To make certain the results were mathematically precise, Cornith tried again, kissing her a little more firmly this time. The response was the same. In the interest of science, he tested the matter a third time, and then turned raptly to the blonde.
"Look! She swoons everytime I kiss her."