Phil turned his head and glanced briefly at the man who stood there surveying the occupants of the room. He got swiftly to his feet just as Fairchild saw them and started toward them.
"Well, goodbye, kids," he said casually. But his broad wink warned them to let him escape with the paper that was still hidden in the palm of his hand.
"Give me back—" Lin blurted. But Phil was hurrying toward the entrance, passing Hugo Fairchild. Lin sighed in relief as Phil made it to the door and vanished.
"Well, well," Fairchild said. "I finally tracked you two down. So you're married now." He slid into the seat Phil had occupied.
"Yes, we're married," Lin said coldly. "And we want to be alone."
"I don't doubt that," Fairchild said. "I don't doubt it at all. I sympathize with you, but I have my job to do, you know."
"I'll bet you sympathize with us," Dorothy said worriedly.
"But I do, really," Fairchild said. "And to prove it I'm going to make you a nice offer. I don't have to, but I can, and I will. Give me the paper and I'll promise not to toss it into the Flame for a whole year. That will give you a year of happiness. It won't do any harm in the long run, because the instant that paper is consumed everything goes right back to the instant of the crash, and world events go on as they should have in the first place. But I'll stick to my bargain. If you give me the paper without trouble."
"But we don't have it!" Dorothy blurted.