"No." Her voice low. "No, thank you."
"But I want you to be happy. Look, 'Tina—let's you and me play cribbage tonight like we used to? We haven't had a game for weeks. How about it?"
"Oh, Greg—would you like to? Really?"
Her dullness slipping away from her like a dropped cape; her voice throbbingly eager. Then another voice at his elbow, a throaty, heart-stirring voice. "Oh, Greg—me, too? May I play? Will you teach me the game?"
Greg turned, smiling. "Why, of course. We'll get Sparks and make it a four-handed game. Eh, 'Tina?"
But 'Tina drew back, her eyes hurt again and distant. Her voice faint. "N-no, Greg. You and Crystal. I don't think I want to...."
Which Greg could not understand. But gradually, out of his confusion and miscomprehension, one truth came clear. And with its coming there was a sudden singing in his heart, a fire in his veins. He loved Crystal Andrews. And Crystal Andrews loved him!
Then one day they woke to find the floor of the cave glistening darkly with a pool of water. The snow was melting from the mouth of the cave. When they attacked the weakened snowbank with shovels and brooms, laughing and fighting their way clear of the white barrier, they discovered that the dark days had ended, that once again the sky of Titan was silver-blue and bright, that already the warmth had turned the snow mantle to chuckling rivulets that ran merrily down the hills, leaving fresh green in its wake. The miracle of Titan's "winter" had passed, and the land would again be theirs for three warm weeks.
Greg's brain was afire with a hundred projects. A viaduct to carry water into the cavern during the next cold period. They had had to depend on melted snow this time. A study of the stars with their new sextant. The clearing of ground for the gigantic signal. He turned to the others enthusiastically.