"I do not think there is any danger," she said with a not very convincing smile, "but there are cururus—water snakes. They grow very large."
"And I asked you to fish!" said Bell. "Stop it!"
he hauled the line ashore, with a flapping thing on the end of it. Bell took the fish off and regarded her catch moodily.
"I'd been thinking," he said moodily, "that Ribiera suspects we're dead. I'd been envisioning ourselves as marooned, yes, but relatively safe as long as we were thought to be dead. And I'd thought that if we lived a sort of castaway existence for a few weeks we'd be forgotten, and would have a faint chance of getting out to civilization without being noticed. But this...."
"I will stay," she said steadily. "I will stay anywhere or go anywhere, with you."
Bell's hand closed on her shoulder.
"I believe it," he said heavily. "And—if you noticed—I had been thinking of letting down the Trade. I'd been thinking of not trying to fight The Master any longer, but only of getting you to safety. In a sense, I was thinking of treason to my job and my government. I suspect"—he smiled rather queerly—"I suspect we love each other rather much, Paula. I'd never have dreamed for anyone else. Go over to the plane and don't fish any more. I'll rustle the food for both of us."
She stood up obediently, smiling at him.