"Clyde!" she said, and threw her arms about him, clinging desperately as if she were afraid to turn loose. "I've been so afraid." There was a funny little catch in her voice.
Vickers stared down at her, refusing to believe his senses. Then she tilted her head back, and he could see the relief and happiness shining in her eyes—and something besides.
Vickers kissed her. All his doubts were suddenly swept away and somehow the old hurts along with them.
"Mr. Vickers," the receptionist said.
He hadn't noticed her enter the room. But he looked up and she was smiling too. There was no repugnance in her eyes.
He said: "Yes."
"They're waiting to see you, Mr. Vickers. If you'll just step this way."
He glanced questioningly at Tani, who nodded. Together they entered Thorpe's office.
Fralick was there, looking old and tired and a little messy. He was sitting behind the big desk with Thorpe at his elbow. There were two others in the office, a tall, parchment-faced Chinese, obviously of Manchu descent and an Arab with the features of a Biblical patriarch. They were smiling, all except Thorpe, who couldn't very well with his jaw in a cast.
Doctor Fralick put the palms of his hands on the desk and leaned forward. He said, "I'm very glad you made it, Vickers. I haven't had a chance to express my appreciation."