He waved at the flowers, stared grimly at the huge box of candy. “Peter's an engaged man, an idiot. He's living in 1880. I'm the man who offered you love with freedom. Don't you realize that the time has come when Peter and I can't talk. It's the truth, Sue. You know it. You're the only human link between us. Therefore, I'm talking to you.” He waited for her to reply; then as she was still, added this quite dispassionately: “Better watch Peter, Sue. He's not standing up very well under the strain. I don't believe he's used to taking chances. Of course, when a nervous cautious man does decide to plunge—”
She interrupted him. “I take it you're planning to go ahead, regardless, Jacob.”
“Of course.” he shrugged his shoulders. “I've told you—we can't stop. Peter least of all. It's pure luck to us that the Interstellar folks can't stop either.”
“You mean—if they could—we'd...”
“Fail? Certainly. Smash.”
Sue felt his strength; found herself admiring him, as she had admired him in the past—coldly, with her mind only.
“I will not go to him as your messenger,” she said, again partly angry.
“All right—if you won't! Call him—” He waved toward the telephone. “Is he home now?” She nodded.
“It's a partnership for him—a good offer—responsible people. See here, Sue, you must be made to grasp this. We're going straight on. Got to! The problem is to make Peter understand—the shape he's in, frightened to death... he won't listen to me.... It's up to you, Sue. It's a job to be handled. I'm trying to tell you. One way or another, it's got to be broken to him tonight. We've got precious little time to give him for his nervous upset before he comes around.”
Sue looked at him. Her hands were folded in her lap..