More and more interesting. Who issued orders the Count couldn't change--in his own castle? As if I didn't know. And I recognized the guard's voice, he was one of the men who had taken me from my prison cell. He searched me quickly and efficiently, then stepped aside. The Count opened the door and I followed him in, trying not to tread on his heels. One thing about reality--it is always so much superior to theory. I had every reason to believe that Angelina would be here, yet it was still a healthy shock to see her sitting at the table. A kind of electric charge in my spine tingled right up to the roots of my hair. This was a moment I had waited for for a very long time. It took a positive effort to relax and appear indifferent. At least as indifferent as any healthy young male is in front of an attractive package of femininity. Of course this girl didn't resemble Angelina very much. Yet I still had no doubt. The face was changed as was the color of the hair. And though the face was a new one it still held the same sweet, angelic quality as the old. Her figure was much the way I remembered it, with perhaps a few slight improvements. Hers was a surface transformation, with no attempt at being as complete as the one I had had done to me. "This is Grav Bent Diebstall," the Count said, fixing his hot and smoky little eyes on her. "The man you wanted to see, Engela." So she was still an angel, though under a different name. That was a bad habit she should watch, only I wasn't going to tell her. A lot of people have been caught by taking an alias too similar to their old one. "Why thank you, Cassitor," she said. Cassitor indeed! I'd look unhappy too if I had to go through life with a handle like Cassitor Rdenrundt. "It was very nice of you to bring Grav Bent here," she added in the same light and empty voice. Cassi must have been expecting a warmer welcome because he stood first on one foot and then another and mumbled something which neither of us heard. But Angelina-Engela's welcome stayed at the same temperature, or perhaps dropped a degree or two as she shuffled some papers on the table in front of her. Even through his fog the Count caught on and went out mumbling something else under his breath that I was pretty sure was one of the shorter and more unwholesome words in the local dialect. We were alone. "Why did you tell all those lies about being in the Stellar Guard," she asked in a quiet voice, apparently still busy at the papers. This was my cue to smile sardonically, and flick some imaginary dust from my sleeve. "Well I certainly couldn't tell all those nice people what I've really been doing all these years I have been away, could I?" I responded with wide-eyed simplicity. "What were you doing, Bent?" she asked and there wasn't a trace of any emotion in her voice.