All four were ravenous.  They had been away from the cube a day and a night, and “all we had to eat was something to drink,” as Smith complained.  Nothing whatever was said except “Please pass that” and “Thanks,” for fully fifteen minutes.

At last they were satisfied.  The doctor went back to the books; Smith returned to his oil-can and wrench.  But Billie stood by the table, and began helping Van Emmon to clear up.  In a moment they were face to face.

“Van,” she said softly, and looked up at him wistfully.  “Van—­do you like me better this way?” Her eyes were almost piteous.

Into the man’s face there came a look of amazement followed by one of admiration, and another of genuine delight He gave a little laugh, and unconsciously threw out his hands.

“Much better, Billie.”  Neither of them cared a particle whether Smith or the doctor saw that Billie, very simply and naturally, walked right into Van Emmon’s arms.  “Much better.  Besides, you’re really too graceful to wear anything else.”