"I have been very happy here with your people."
"I am so glad," she replied mentally.
That made what he wanted to say extremely difficult. His throat suddenly congested, though he knew that it was only a nervous muscular reaction.
"Trajores," he said, gruffly, sadly, "I've been thinking of returning to my own planet, Earth. I have enough Roxite to insure a reasonable status of existence. I wish I might stay longer...."
Trajores stood immobile. She seemed to be thinking. Strangely enough a queer battle of emotions mirrored itself in her delicate features. Drawers felt vaguely uncomfortable alone with her. He wondered where Persum had wandered to. He had started out, as usual, with them, but somehow had drifted away, leaving him alone with Trajores.
"Michel Drawers," came an urgent thought.
Drawers riveted his attention upon the radiant woman.
"I wish you would stay here with me always. I know you would be very happy. I, I," two great golden tears rolled down her well-molded cheeks, and impulsively she flung herself into his big arms, and for the first time since his arrival he heard one of these little people give vent to a sound. It was a sob—and it came from Trajores.
Drawers stood puzzled. Instinctively he scratched his rough skull.
"Why. Why?" seemed all he could say.