E. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. She, however, had no idea of doing anything of the sort. Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee. He crawled underneath the covers with her. McClintock laughed as he gave the letter to Ruth. She wanted to kiss his feet. She knew that in her new rôle she was as likely as not to be a rank failure. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. He still watched her and questioned her. He made it impossible not to respond, his arms tightening deliciously around hers.
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