She was still tall, but her white hair gave her the look of the seventy years with which Wilkins had credited her. Deep laugh-wrinkles bracketed the mouth, with more at the corners of the still bright eyes. The delicate bones of her face were more prominent. There was nevertheless a clear resemblance to the Daphne Foster he had received earlier. _She looks ... she looked_, thought Vyrtl, _as this woman might have looked when she was young ... or might have wanted to look._ No, that was not quite it. _As she knew a man would have liked her to look!_ The woman on the screen spoke, her eyes smiling into his in a manner that was painfully familiar. "Your Illustrious Sublimity has become the first to share my little secret." Vyrtl, with a concentration of will, prevented his eyes from peeping sidelong at Wilkins' expression. "We are somewhat surprised," he said, knowing it for an asinine remark but afraid to risk his dignity by being plainer. "Of course," she said, "I hardly expect it to make any difference in the imperial announcement of peace, but if any clarification is desired of me, I shall be happy to oblige." Vyrtl thought furiously. Had he actually _said_ anything to Wilkins or anyone else? He tried to remember every word spoken at the conference. It seemed to him there had been one or two slips, but they had been taken for imperial witticisms. No, he was safe enough. The Jursan Council and their technicians naturally must know the "clarification" offered him, but they would know better than to publicize it. He could afford to show no mercy if they did. As things stood, it might be best to stand by his published word. "We desire," he said slowly, "that you, as ambassador, return immediately. You will have every facility to communicate with your government, to repay the inconvenience." The old woman stared him in the eye, then bowed silently. Vyrtl saw that she realized what it might mean. He hoped she would not arrange an "accident" before her ship returned. He had Wilkins take over and check with the captain of the rocket. It was determined that the best effort would bring the ship back to the dome on Klo about "mid-morning." Vyrtl left orders that the woman was to be brought before him the moment she arrived, and retired for the night. He found Xota sprawled confidently upon his bed, and kicked her off in a temper. His groping had found no loose object to fling after her as she slunk out the door, and that made his temper worse. He was a long time getting to sleep.... * * * * * The next morning, he pecked at his breakfast and sneered at the artificial dawn that had been delayed for his benefit. "Get me a lozard and a squad of guards!" he snarled to Wilkins. "I'll have a run through the woods while I wait."