“Sonya! Sonya! Sonya!”
She had turned, was staring at me. I waved my arms.
“Sonya! I am Leonard; come here!”
I plunged forward down the hillock path. The crowd scattered before me.
“Sonya, come here!”
She had turned. She was coming! I advanced steadily, not running, walking swiftly, with arms outstretched, menacing the crowd with my unknown weapon. The throng was stricken motionless with the strangeness of my aspect. From the staircase, the girls were staring; the guards were staring, a sea of faces, everywhere staring.
Calmly I advanced, and before me now a lane opened in the crowd. For all my outward calmness, my heart was pounding. The pulse-motor at my wrist was throbbing. I had not used my weapon yet. But it would be effective.
“Sonya! Come here! Hurry! Sonya!”
My words, strange of language, awed the crowd further. The men parted before Sonya’s running figure. She came up panting, white-faced.
“Len!”