Joan recoiled from him in panic, tearing herself from his arms and going backward several steps. He could see that she was really frightened. "I . . . I thought . . ." she stammered. Then, slowly, the change came over her, and the blood flooded into her face in the same amazing blush he had seen once before that day. Her cool, level-looking eyes were no longer level-looking nor cool, but warmly drooping and just unable to meet his, as she came toward him and nestled in the circle of his arms, saying softly, almost in a whisper,-- "I am ready, Dave." FOOTNOTES {1} Eaten. {2} Food. {3} Mary--beche-de-mer English for woman. {4} _Ngari-ngari_--literally "scratch-scratch"--a vegetable skin-poisoning that, while not serious, is decidedly uncomfortable. {5} Paddle