And the stiffness went out of him, and absently he began to look over their heads for Laura Greggor. When he saw her arrive, he wondered how he should greet her, but she took the problem in her own way and came over to the group. "Hello, Guy," she said, offering him her hand. "I'm glad to see you," he told her. One of the other women smiled wryly. "An eligible, girls. That's about all, now." "We've experience," returned another. "And what has she got that we haven't?" "His hand," said the first. "And from here, it looks as though she intends to keep it." The orchestra broke into dance music, and as though prearranged, Guy led Laura through the crowd to the dance floor. "How've you been?" he asked quietly. She looked up at him and smiled. "Fine," she said. "I'm glad you're here." "So am I--now. An hour ago I didn't think I would." "So?" "I was feeling low. Reaction, I guess." "What you need is relaxation," she told him. "A drink, perhaps?" "Could be," he agreed. "If I were you, I'd get good and fried. You must have been through everything." "It seems like everything," he smiled. "But I can't get stinkeroo. I'm supposed to be the guest of honor." Laura laughed lightly, and led him to the bar where she prescribed a healthy drink. Guy downed it, gulped, and wiped tears from his eyes. "Whoooooo!" he squealed, hugging his midsection. "Sissy," giggled Laura. "Feels like a MacMillian going off down there. Is there a fire extinguisher in the place?" They both laughed. Then Laura led the way to the opened French doors and out into the fragrant garden. It was warm and pleasant there, and with one thought they went to the far, darker end of the garden and sat down. "Did you think of me?" asked Laura. "Always," lied Maynard. Then he said truthfully: "I've been working toward this moment for a long time. You wanted a set of patrol marshal's nebulae. You may have mine, now." Laura took the box, and looked at the starred nebulae of the sector marshal. "I shouldn't do this," she teased. It rubbed Maynard the wrong way, that teasing. He knew it was just coquetry, but still it went against the grain. It was probably because he knew what was in her mind. "Why not?" he asked. "In some circles it is considered an honor." "Huh," gibed Laura, "perhaps in some circles. But remember it is no great novelty to the daughter of a space marshal." "The thrill of giving some bird the royal send-off is gone, hey?" asked Guy, stubbornly. "How many other officers have you done the honor for?" "Quite a number," she told him. "Quite a few more than any one man can boast of having women do it for him. After all, one man only gets eight new insignia during the course of his life." "You must have quite a collection," said Guy. "Which collection includes some of mine." "Some," answered Laura sharply. "Most of my officers are true, though, and do not go off letting other girls pin their insignia on." * * * * *