“Damn it,” Lou said in a soft, sweet voice, “kiss me, Ken.”
Malone had no answer to that—at least, no verbal answer.
One didn’t seem to be needed.
When he finally came up for air, he said: “Lou....”
“Yes, Ken?”
“Lou, where are you going from here?”
Lou stepped back a pace. “What?” she said.
“I mean, back to New York?” Malone said. “Or someplace else? I mean— well, what are you going to do?”
“Oh,” Lou said. “Oh, yes. I’ll be going back to New York. After all, Ken, I do have a living to make, such as it is, and Sir Lewis is expecting me.”
“I don’t know,” Malone said, “but it still sounds funny. A girl like you working for—well, for the Psychical Research people. Ghosts and ectoplasm and all that.”