"He may be a little late tonight; he has a lot to do, first. But he'll be here." _Buzzzzz_.... It was the red button; it blinked on and off. "Visitors," June said. "Look--" Mary said. "Look, June. I'm not half ready yet. Look. Tell Miss Bestris I'll be down a little late. Tell her I have a special boy, and it'll be all right. He wants me to wait for him." June was on her feet. "... All right. You'd better not wait too long!" "I won't." After June was gone, Mary returned to the task of making her face pretty, but after a moment, she turned from the mirror, leaned back, and tried to relax. Underneath her dress, her heart was pounding. The warm air carried sounds of the night creatures. One of the great canal insects, screeching, flapped by the window. The tiny third moon crept up over the horizon, and the buildings cast triple shadows. _Buzzz. Buzzzz._ Still Mary waited. _Buzzz. Buzzzz. Buzzzzzz...._ She was afraid to wait any longer. But by now she was sure that he would be down stairs. There was a last-minute flurry of combing and primping, and then she rustled out of the room, her head erect, her eyes shining. * * * * * The large reception room was filling. Overhead, the color organ threw shimmering, prismatic beams on the ceiling. Beneath it, stiff, embarrassed spacemen, mostly officers dressed in parade uniforms, chatted in space-pidgin with the laughing, rainbow-haired girls. Miss Bestris sat in one corner, her eyes roving the room: settling here for a second, there for a second, checking, approving, disapproving, silently. Occasionally she would smile or nod at one of the girls or one of the spacemen, and once she frowned ever so slightly and shook her head. Anne was reclining on a couch, eating a golden Martian apple, listening to a second mate; she played with a lock of his hair and smiled her wide smile. June, angelic, sat primly in a straight-backed chair, the captain at her feet, a boyish, space-pale Earthman, drew embarrassed circles on the carpet with his index finger. In the next room, three couples were dancing to the slow music of an Earth orchestra. An inner door opened, and a uniformed native sheriff stepped in, a crisp, military figure. "Miss Bestris?" She stood up. "Yes?" The Earthmen fell silent, waiting. "We think we have your runaway." He turned to the door. "Bring her in." Two more sheriffs entered, and between them, there was a young, slender girl. Her face was gaunt and tear-stained. Her body trembled. She looked at the Madame fearfully. "You idiots!" Miss Bestris screamed. "Get her out of here! You'll ruin my party! Take her out!" The two men removed the girl. To the remaining sheriff, Miss Bestris said, "Damn you, if you ever do anything like that again, I'll ... I'll...." "I'm sorry, Madame. But we wanted immediate identification. Would you want us to hold the wrong girl?" "That's her, all right! Now, get out! Wait for me in my office."