“That’s right, Miss Thompson,” Malone told the Queen.
“And Miss Garbitsch—”
“I’m fine, Miss Thompson,” Luba said. She swung her feet around to the deck.
“Wait a minute,” Malone said. “Do you think you ought to get up?”
Lou’s smile seemed to reduce him to small, very hot ashes. “Ken,” she said, “the doctor said I was fine, so what are you worrying about? I can get up. I’ll be all right.”
“Oh, okay,” he said, and stepped back. Her Majesty had already left the plane. Lou got up, and wavered just a little. Malone held out his arms, and found her in them before he had thought about it.
A long time seemed to pass. Malone wasn’t sure whether he was standing still because he wanted to, or because he was absolutely incapable of motion. Lou didn’t seem in any hurry to break away, either.
Then she put her arms around his neck.
“Sleuth,” she said, “don’t you ever follow up a hint?”
“Hint?” Malone said.