“_Tomorrow?_ Don’t be silly, dear. I’d need at _least_ four more--well, maybe three days. But I’m just _starting_ to get an idea what I can do. Phil, it’s like--like starting all over, say to learn ballet, _after_ you’ve been an expert in, say, African dance. It’s _that_ different!” “Yeah? Well you could fool me, kid. I’m just ignorant enough to think you looked damn good back there.” They took their dinners to a table where Thad Bourgnese and the Donovan girl and a couple of others were already seated. Thad jumped up to move a chair for Lee next to his own. Phil pulled up his own chair alongside Rita, watching her. By every damn bit of experience he had with anyone he’d ever known, this particular girl ought to flip her lid this time. Instead, she turned and smiled and said, “She is just too beautiful to believe, isn’t she?” “Yeah.” Phil ate his soup, and kept his thoughts to himself. When Chris joined them a few minutes later, and took Lisa’s other side, engaging her in intense quiet-voiced conversation, he watched Thad from out of the edge of his vision. Bourgnese turned to Rita again. That was all. You’d have sworn no one anywhere around the table had felt the least ruffle of irritation at any point. Phil was beginning to believe they _hadn’t_; for the first time, he started mentally reviewing, _seriously_, some of the startling improvements he’d seen in his hypertension cases. _It figures_, he thought, reluctantly. _Damn if it don’t figure_.... “Phil!” “Hmmm?” He looked past Rita and Thad to Lee’s rosy face. “Remember what we were saying before?” “Yeah?” _Which what? Which before?_ “Well,” she said, brimming with laughter, “Chris wants to know if I’d be willing to give up my berth this week, so he can take it!” “I got the official bit just now,” Chris told them all. “They want me to testify next Tuesday. But, Lee, we can switch someone else, if you think--” “Oh, _no_. I mean, thanks, but--well, frankly, I was just telling Phil when we came in, I wished I could have some more time for practicing. Now I’ve got started, I’m just _flabbergasted_....” * * * * * Later, he got her alone long enough to make sure she had not spoken spur-of-the-moment, before she thought about Johnny. She hadn’t. “Chris said I could radiowire him this evening, and if he wants, he’ll be able to call me, tonight or tomorrow. So we’re not announcing anything about the performance yet. But he got a report that Johnny was fine when he landed, and--oh, dammit, Phil, one week won’t _kill_ him. One _more_ week, I mean. And when do you think I’ll ever get a chance to do this stuff again?” “Honey--_I’m_ not saying No.”