The ordinarily unobservant Bennie noticed that she was dressed in the same trim tan suit she had worn when he first met her, and that her cheeks were quite pink. She looked very nice there, in that white-tiled room--very nice indeed! This was the second time he had been struck by that salient fact. If all girls were like _her_! But most of them were, unfortunately, more like Miss Beebe. He sat down opposite her and lit his pipe. Somehow, he never felt the slightest awkwardness when in her company--always at his best! She had a brain like--well, even better than Seabury's, for instance, and a figure--His eye followed the line of the tailor-made suit, and his heart pumped noticeably. Too much tobacco, he thought. "Look here," she said, with determination: "Don't start this fool adventure. There is still the possibility that the moon may turn the asteroid aside." He looked at her, astounded. "Oh, I mean it!" she insisted, wrinkling her brows. "This machine is all very well--in theory. It will _go_. But we all know that it won't come back!" "Of course it will come back," he retorted, "unless it busts!" "It's a thousand-to-one-shot!" "Supposing it is--isn't it _up_ to me to go?" he replied simply. "It's the only chance to save the earth from destruction. I'd be the worst sort of a coward if I didn't. You wouldn't want me to show the white feather--now!" He stopped short at the look in her eyes--such a queer look. Her cheeks had become quite pale. "No," she answered, in a low voice, but still with a question in it. "Then you are resolved to go?" "Absolutely!" He gripped his pipe-stem hard between his teeth. She looked down, and the red came back into her face, stealing gradually from the collar of her almost military jacket to her eyes. "Then take me, too!" she said. "You! I _will_ not!" he answered brusquely. "Please! Don't you think you almost owe it to me? It was my idea--and I worked out your equations for you. I ought to have some of the fun." "Don't be foolish," he urged, although he hated to deny her anything. "You've got your life to live. You're young and clever and--and pretty"--his own features had become unaccountably warm--"and--and--what's the sense of it? Of course, it's a very uncertain project--this space-navigation. I wouldn't let you risk your life in this blooming car for--for anything! No--by thunder!" "My life is my own--isn't it?--if I want to sacrifice it to science, as you purpose doing with yours?" "One of--us--is enough," he announced with conviction.