But conceivably that had been silly.

She did not think about herself and Althene making love, because when she had done this before, the intensity of frustrated need had, as the pregnancy did not, made her sick.

No, better just to take this as it came.

She ran down through the flats at a quarter to five.

The gentle young man from the second bottom flat, the cello player, was bringing his Labrador puppy in from its walk.

Rachaela stroked the puppy quickly, not giving it enough time to investigate the fascinating taint of cat.

"Have to fly—"

Outside she waited in the cool mellowness of early sunfall. And from the muslin light, the long car came, a Rolls.

She got in, and the driver, with only a mannerly greeting, drove her away.

The planes were coming down like giant winged whales. They went nowhere near the arrival lounge, but away among some trees, to a tiny airstrip separated from the conglomerate by high barbed-wire fences.

It was dark now and cold lights pierced vision from all directions.

Like some film, she thought, when the famous spy arrives with the secret which will save the world.

Althene, the spy.

/ don't feel anything.

She stood outside the car, and after a while she saw the little plane descend from heaven, onto the little runway.

It landed beautifully, as if sliding along a pat of butter.

A ten-seater, which, when it halted, let forth one figure. A tall woman in a layered devastating coat, not black like her hair, but flaming red.

Red. The marriage color.

Rachaela felt sick. She wanted to run away.

Althene, like fate, inexorably came toward her.

She was so beautiful she put out the bloody lights of the airport.

She came straight up to Rachaela and took Rachaela into her arms.

"Let me go." Althene did so. "Before you say anything," Rachaela said, "I'm pregnant."

"Ah," said Althene. "So much for the Roman method."

"I shan't go through with it," said Rachaela. "I want you to understand that. I'm too old—"

"You're Scarabae. Your body will do anything you want. You can't be harmed, or the child."

"All right, but I don't want it."

"That's different, of course," Althene said.

"You understand then."

"Naturally. Can I kiss you now?"

Rachaela looked at Althene. "I want you to. But then what?"

"My bags are coming. Quite a lot of them. More things on their way. You have a flat. The second floor is also available to us. They interconnect."

"I see."

"I mean I shall live with you," Althene said. "I hoped you realized this, and that was why you had come to meet me. Obviously, if not—"

Rachaela began to cry. The third time. The tears flooded out, and were ended.

"I gather it will be horrible for you," said Althene.

"I love you," Rachaela said. "Don't leave me."