"Al," I said, "I've got to talk to her."
Was it wishful thinking or did I see a warmth leap into her face as she turned to see my image?
"Trust in me, Elaine," I said. "I'll bring you home."
"Home?" she asked.
"Yes, home—home to me," I said, naked longing in my voice—and, for all the world to hear, "I love you, darling."
"Moi, aussi!" Monsieur DuBois me-too'd in French.
"Ich auch!" came from Munich, plus, "Bitte komme doch bald zuruck!" which, I gathered, was asking her to come back but quickly!
"I mean it!" I cried through Babel.
My voice was lost in a storm of pleas, protestations, proposals, propositions, presentations and plain Ph. D. philanderings, during which Elaine's loveliness appeared briefly on the monitor screens for Paris, Leeds, Brussels, Hanford, Stockholm, Paris, Hanford, Phoenix, Munich, Hanford, Atomsk, Tokyo, Hanford, Madrid, Paris, Hanford, Paris, Hanford, Paris, Hanford—