Clifton could only sink back against the wall and look at the two of them, the Portia he had never seen so radiant, George, a dark, handsome fellow who wore a quizzical look. Clifton was shocked to see they were holding hands.
"Captain," George said in a friendly way, rising his full six feet, "Portia tells me—"
"I'm sorry, Cliff," Portia interrupted hastily. "George is my fiance. We were to be married on Ostarpa, but as long as you—"
Tomorrow, she had said....
The two figures blurred before him, the room reeled and Clifton clutched the doorway for support. Karen, Karen! I've been bewitched.... This girl—I thought she was you.... I should have known....
"Let me help you."
Clifton struck out at the dark head of hair, hit it somewhere.
Karen, Karen! Can you hear me?
He stumbled out of the room and down the corridor.
Karen, Karen! Where are you?