Polter was moving. We had no time to say more. "Yes! Yes, I'll try it, George." For just an instant she clung to me with her soft arms about my neck. Our love was sweeping us in this desperate moment, and it seemed that above us was a remote Earth world holding the promise of all our dreams. Or were we star-crossed, doomed like the realm of the atom? Was this swift embrace now marking the end of everything for us? Babs called, "Dr. Polter?" We could feel his movements stopping. "Yes? You are all right, Babs?" She laughed--a ripple of silvery laughter--but there was tragic fear in her eyes as she held her gaze on me. "Yes, Dr. Polter, but breathless. Almost dead, but not quite. What happened? I want to come out and talk to you." "Not now, little bird." "But I want to." To me it was a miracle that she could call so lightly and hold that note of lugubrious laughter in her voice. "I am hungry. Don't you think of that? And frightened. Take me out." * * * * * He was sitting down! "You remind me that I am tired, Babs. And hungry, also. I haf a little food. You shall come out for just a short time." "Thank you. Take me carefully." Our tilted cage was near the ground as he seated himself. But still it was too far for me to jump. I murmured, "Babs--" "Wait, George! I'll fix that. You hide! If he looks in he'll see you, where you are now!" I scrambled back to my hiding place. Polter's huge fingers were fumbling at our bars. The little door sprang open. "Come, Babs." He held the cupped bowl of his palm to the doorway. "Come out." "No!" she called. "It is too far down!" "Come. That iss foolish." "No! I'm afraid. Put the cage on the ground." "Babs!" His finger and thumb came reaching in to seize her, but she avoided them. "Dr. Polter! Don't! You'll crush me!" "Then come out on my hand." He seemed annoyed. I had scrambled back to the doorway; I knew he could not see me so long as the cage remained strapped to his shirt front. I whispered, "I can make it, Babs!" Polter was apparently on one elbow, half turned on his side. From our cage, the sloping gleaming white surface of his stiff glossy shirt-bosom went down a steep incline. His belt was down there, and the outward bulging curve of his lap--a spreading surface where I could land like a scuttling insect, unobserved, if only Babs could hold his attention. I whispered vehemently. "Try it! Go out! Leave me! Keep talking to him!" She called instantly, "Very well, then. Bring your hand! Closer! Carefully! It seems so high up here!" * * * * * She swung herself to his palm, and flung her arms about the great pillar of his upcrooked finger. The bowl of his hand moved slowly away. I heard her calling voice, and his overhead rumble. I chanced it! I could not determine the exact position, or which way he was looking. Again I heard Bab's voice. "Careful, Dr. Polter. Don't let me fall!" "Yes, little bird."