"Sleuth," Luba said softly in the darkness.
Malone turned to face her.
"Sleuth," she said, "don't you ever take a chance?"
"Chance?" Malone said.
"Damn it," Luba said in a soft, sweet voice, "kiss me, Ken."
Malone had no answer to that—at least, no verbal answer. But then, one didn't seem to be needed.
When he finally came up for air, he said: "Lou—"
"Yes, Ken?"
"Lou, how long are you going to be here? Or in New York? What I mean is—"
"I'll be around," Lou said. "I will be going back to New York of course; after all, Ken, I do have a living to make, such as it is, and Sir Lewis is expecting me."