"Yes," she said bitterly. "You had this boy steal fresh fruit for you. I suppose you didn't know that under space regulations that makes him equally guilty?"
"No, Sis, he didn't," I was beginning to argue. "All he wanted—"
"Sure I knew. Also know that if I'm picked up as a stowaway, I'll be sent back to Earth to serve out those fancy little sentences."
"Well, you're guilty of them, aren't you?"
He waved his hands at her impatiently. "I'm not talking law, female; I'm talking sense. Listen! I'm in trouble because I went to Earth to look for a wife. You're standing here right now because you're on your way to Venus for a husband. So let's."
Sis actually staggered back. "Let's? Let's what? Are—are you daring to suggest that—that—"
"Now, Miss Sparling, no hoopla. I'm saying let's get married, and you know it. You figured out from what the boy told you that I was chewing on you for a wife. You're healthy and strong, got good heredity, you know how to operate sub-surface machinery, you've lived underwater, and your disposition's no worse than most of the anura I've seen. Prolific stock, too."
I was so excited I just had to yell: "Gee, Sis, say yes!"
My sister's voice was steaming with scorn. "And what makes you think that I'd consider you a desirable husband?"