perfectionist."

He was about to kiss her when the door opened again and Dallard entered.

He looked from Pell to Gret and raised his eyebrows. "I trust I wasn't interrupting anything," he drawled slyly.

"Oh, come in, Dallard," Pell said, although not very enthusiastically. "How are your men coming along with the uranium?"

"Fine. Fine. But, I say, you're hardly the bright and cheery fellow one would expect to meet this morning."

"He's worried about Gutridge escaping," Gret explained.

Dallard laughed. "Pell, haven't you heard about his ... ah ... little accident? It seems someone forgot to inform the planet-mounteds that our friend would be departing, so I'm afraid he's little more than a cinder now. Frightful mistake, eh?"

He clucked innocently and, twirling his sandy mustache airily, walked jauntily from the room.

Pell looked after him amazed, a small shudder running the length of his spine. "You colonials are forgetful people, aren't you?" he observed.

"Perhaps," Gret replied, wrinkling her nose at him, "but sometimes it pays."

"Well, in the future," Pell said, "don't forget I like my ham and eggs in bed."

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