They worked in a combination! studio-storage room under the west wing ofVeder House, with sunlight! entering through a line of high windows. Sessily wore soft pink trousersi and a gray pullover shirt: garments which failed to disguise the contpurs| of her body, of which Glawen became ever more conscious. At last,| he came to stand beside her, where she bent over the table. She felt| his nearness and looked up, half smiling. Glawen caught her in his arms and kissed her with an intensity she could not fail to understand, and to which she responded. At last they pulled apart and stood facing one another. :.

Glawen said huskily: "I don't know whether it's because of ideas Aries put into my head or because I've begun thinking them of and own accord. Either way I find it hard to stop."

Sessily, smiling ruefully, said: "To blame Aries because you wai to love me that's not very flattering."

Glawen said hastily: "I didn't mean it that way. It's just that " "Hush," said Sessily.

"Don't explain. Talk is always a distraction. Think, instead."

"Think? Of what?"

"Well ... Perhaps of Aries."

Giawen was puzzled.

"If you like. For how long?"

"Only an instant. Just long enough to realize that I have feelings too, and Aries said nothing to me." She took a step back.

"Giawen, no. I shouldn't have said that. My mother might be looking in at any moment... In fact, listen! I hear her coming now. Get busy."

Footsteps approached, certain and brisk. The door opened and it was indeed Felice Veder who came into the room: a pretty woman of early maturity, not much larger than Sessily, characterized by an innate decisiveness, as if her conduct were controlled by patterns of absolute validity which needed no attention.

Felice paused a moment to appraise Giawen and Sessily. Her gaze took in Glawen's uneasy posture and Sessily's flush and somewhat tumbled brown curls. She came to the table and inspected the wings.

"Oh, how beautiful! Those will be truly spectacular, especially when they glow in the light! Am I wrong, or is it a trifle warm down here? Why don't you open the windows?"

"Yes, it's a bit warm," Sessily agreed.

"Giawen, would you please-but no! If the wind blows in, it will shift all the patterns."

"True," said Felice.

"Well, I have much to do. Keep up the good work!"

She departed. A few minutes later another set of footsteps sounded in the hall. Sessily listened.

"It's Squeaker.

Mother decided that we need supervision." She glanced sidelong at Giawen.

"With good reason, perhaps?"

Giawen grimaced.

"Now she'll make sure that we're never alone."

Sessiiy laughed.

"Small chance of that ... Although sometimes I want things to go on forever, just as they are."

Into the room came a girl: a slight little creature about ten years old, with Sessily's snub nose and brown curls.

Sessily looked up.

"Hello, Squeaker. What are you doing down here among the rats and vermin and jumpy bugs?"

"Mother says that I am to help you, and that Giawen must work very hard so that his mind does not wander off among the flowers. Isn't that a strange thing for Mother to say?"

"Very strange. She is unpredictable. She means, of course, that Glawen is something of a poet, and unless you and I direct his every move, he'll just stand and daydream."

"Hm. Do you really think that's what she meant?"

"I'm sure of it."

"When can I have a turn directing Giawen?"

Sessily said: "Sometimes, Squeaker, I suspect that you are far wiser

than you let on. You definitely may not have a turn with Glawen. Not until I have put him through all his paces, and proved that he is tame. Now, then, come over here and make yourself useful."

"Are there really rats and vermin down here?"

"I don't know. Go look in that dark corner, behind those boxes. If something jumps out at you--well, we'll all know not to do it again."

"It's not all that important, thank you."

Sessily told Glawen: "Squeaker is very brave in such matters, remarkably so."

"Not exactly," said Squeaker.

"In fact, not at all, though it's nice of you to say so. Also, I've been thinking lately that I'd rather not be called Squeaker anymore. Glawen, did you hear that?"

"I certainly did. What should we call you?"

"My real name is Miranda. It sounds more like a girl than "Squeaker."" "Perhaps so," said Glawen.

"What does "Squeaker' sound like, in your opinion?"

"I know what it sounds like! When anyone says "Squeaker' they think of me."

"Exactly right!" said Sessily.

"Well, we must change our ways. Especially since "Miranda' is a pretty name just right for a nice girl who is not a brat, like so many other little sisters I know."

"Thank you, Sessily."

Just after sundown Glawen returned to Clattuc House, and once again Scharde was gone from their chambers. Glawen stood indecisively, disturbed by a feeling of guilt for some deed or misdeed which he could not define, but for which Scharde's absence seemed to reproach him. What could his father be doing at this quiet hour of the evening? The matter of Sisco's larceny must long since have been settled . Glawen telephoned Namour's office but made no contact.