He would reach out and touch Sophia, he would insist on tucking her in at night (let me be your big brother), he would awaken her in the morning with his hand heavy on her shoulder. Finally, one night at bedtime, she heard him conversing in low whispers with Ivan and Boris. She could not hear the words, but Boris looked at her with what she thought was surprise, Ivan nodded in an understanding way, and both of them left the room. Sophia frowned. "What did you tell them, Georgi?" "That we wanted to be alone one evening, of course." "I never gave you any indication--" "I could see it in your eyes, in the way you looked at me." "Well, you had better call them back inside and go to bed." Georgi shook his head, approached her. "Georgi! Call them back or I will." "No, you won't." Georgi followed her as she retreated into a corner of the room. When she reached the wall and could retreat no further, he placed his thick hands on her shoulders, drew her to him slowly. "You will call no one," he rasped. * * * * * She ducked under his arms, eluded him, was on the point of running to the door, throwing it open and shouting, when she reconsidered. If she did, she would be asking for quarter, gaining a temporary reprieve, inviting the same sort of thing all over again. She crossed to the bed and sat down. "Come here, Georgi." "Ah." He came to her. She watched him warily, a soft flabby man not quite so tall as she was, but who nevertheless out-weighed her by thirty or forty pounds. In his eagerness, he walked too fast, lost his footing and floated gently to the ceiling. Smiling as demurely as she could, Sophia reached up, circled his ankle with her hand. "I never could get used to this weightlessness," Georgi admitted. "Be nice and pull me down." "I will be nice. I will teach you a lesson." He weighed exactly nothing. It was as simple as stretching. Sophia merely extended her arm upwards and Georgi's head hit the ceiling with a loud _thunk_. Georgi groaned. Sophia repeated the procedure, lowering her arm a foot--and Georgi with it--then raising it and bouncing his head off the ceiling. "I don't understand," Georgi whined, trying to break free but only succeeding in thrashing his chubby arms foolishly. "You haven't mastered weightlessness," Sophia smiled up at him. "I have. I said I would teach you a lesson. First make sure you have the strength of a man if you would play a man's game." Still smiling, Sophia commenced spinning the hand which held Georgi's ankle. Arms and free leg flailing air helplessly, Georgi began to spin. "Put me down!" he whined, a boy now, not even pretending to be a man. When Sophia shoved out gently and let his ankle go he did a neat flip in air and hung suspended, upside down, his feet near the ceiling, his head on a level with Sophia's shoulders. He cried.