"I'll behave myself!" She laughed, pure joy in voice, eyes, and smile. "I bet myself you wouldn't and I won! You're tall, solid gold, Clee darling--the absolute top." "Thanks, sweetheart. I wish that were true," he said, soberly. "But I can't help wondering if two such hellions as you and I are can make a go of marriage--no, cancel that. We'll do it--all we have to figure out is how." "I know what you mean. Not at first--it'll be purely wonderful then. After five years, say, when the glamor has worn off and I've had three of our six children and two of them are in bed with the epizootic and I'm all frazzled out and you're strung up tight as a bowstring with overwork and...." "Hold it! Uh-uh. No. If we can live together six months--or even six weeks--without killing each other, we'll have it made. It's at first that it'll be rugged. No matter how rugged it gets, though, we'll know one thing for certain sure. We _couldn't_ live apart. That'll give us enough leverage. Check?" "And double check." She giggled sunnily. "I'll take care of any and all situations, whatever they are, that arise in the first six months. You'll be responsible for the next sixty years. That's a perfectly fair and equitable division of responsibility. Now kiss me and we'll go." * * * When Garlock cut the Gunther blocks, however, James' thought came instantly in. "Been trying to get you for twenty minutes," and in a couple of seconds he brought Garlock and Belle up to date. "So Fatso's been waiting in Evans' office. He's throwing fits all over the place and Evans and Macey are going quietly mad." "He'll have to wait," Garlock decided instantly. "No matter how many fits he has, no such decision is going to be made until there's enough of a Galactic Council to make it." "Well, you'll have to tell him that yourself. In person." "I'll do just that, and tell him so he'll stay told." "Okay, but shake a...." Belle and Garlock 'ported out into the Main, arms around each other like a couple of college freshmen. "... leg-g--ug--gug...." James gurgled. "_Belle!_" Lola shrieked. "_Why--Belle--Bellamy!_" "_What_ goes _on_ here?" James demanded. "Nothing much," Garlock replied, although he blushed almost as deeply as Belle did. "We just decided to quit fighting, is all. Cut the rope, Junior, and let the old bucket drop." THE END