"
"Some crazinesses aren't bad," argued Babs.
"I've made a living out of them," agreed Cochrane sourly. "But I don't
like them. I have a feeling that I could arrange things better. I know I
couldn't, but I'd like to try. In my own small way, I'm even trying."
Babs chuckled.
"That's because you are a man. Women aren't so foolish. We're realists.
We like creation--even men--the way creation is."
"I don't," Cochrane said irritably. "We've accomplished something
terrific, and I don't get a kick out of it! My head is full of business
details that have to be attended to tomorrow. I ought to be uplifted. I
ought to be gloating! I ought to be happy! But I'm worrying for fear
that this infernal planet is going to disappoint our audience!"
Babs chuckled again. Then she went to the stair leading to the
compartment below.
"What's the matter?" he demanded.
"After all, I'm going to leave you alone," said Babs cheerfully. "You're
always very careful not to talk to me in any personal fashion. I think
you're afraid I'll tell you something for your own good. If I stayed
here, I might. Goodnight!"
She started down the stairs.
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