Her hand went softly over his features, as though to assure herself that it was really he.
"Oh, my dear," she whispered brokenly. "I had almost given up all hope. Everyone was certain you were lost—long ago."
Whirrings sounded outside.
"Sorry to break up your reunion," Grim interrupted in his bass rumble, "but the Mercutians have landed on the lawn. They'll be in here right away."
Joan tore herself out of Hilary's arms. Her slim straight figure tautened; her velvet soft eyebrows puckered over deep-lit pools.
"Upstairs quickly, all of you," she cried. "I'll manage them somehow."
Hilary said quietly, "I won't leave you alone with those brutes. You go along up, and I'll remain here." The automatic gleamed in his hand.
"No, no," she panted, "you mustn't. You wouldn't have a chance. Leave it to me." She literally pushed them with her little hands to the stairway. "Go, if you love me."
"The girl's right," Grim said, "there's a chance. If not," he shrugged his shoulders, "we can always come down again."
Outside were heavy thuddings on the portico.