"Well," I said, trying to think of an answer.
Across from us, squatting happily on a specially provided stool, was Clatclit. As ambassador-elect of the Sugarfoot Nation to Earth, and the first extraterrestrial permitted to land on our home planet, he was mighty proud of his upcoming honor. Clatclit the sugarfoot clacked something.
I looked at him.
He pointed to his wrist and shook his head.
I grinned. "There's your answer, Ted. There wasn't time to fall in love slowly."
Ted stared at the carpet and sulked. I had already, in a post-trauma state of nerves, shattered his composure not a little by angrily telling him that his "world-saving" code was really a cipher.
He'd been unwontedly morose ever since. I felt kind of bad about it, but couldn't find an opportunity as yet of getting his ego back on its feet.
Then Clatclit, resplendent in his new-grown ruby scales, made another noise. I looked at him again.
He made a back-over-the-shoulder gesture, then tapped his wrist.
"A while ago ..." I interpreted aloud for Snow's benefit. And Ted's, if he wasn't too sunken in gloom to listen.