"I love you so ... love you," he half gasped, half sobbed. Floating before his eyes, closed or opened — withered — pursing, mumbling, mouthing gums —
She laughed softly, held him closer. "And that makes you shudder so? Why, dear? You know — you must know by now — that I love you. Is that cause for shuddering?"
"Oh, God, Gloria" — the vision rose and mumbled in his face — "you must stay with me, must —"
Suddenly she stiffened, he could feel her breath catch, and her hand stopped abruptly its tender, stroking motion. "You love me, but —" She writhed from his arms, stood up, and darted away, sobbing, across the penthouse terrace, to stand rigid, with her back against the wall of the house, clenched fist pressed against her lips.
Hale started after her, but she pushed him away.
"No ... no ... go away!"
"Sweetheart ... why? What is it —"
"You love me ... but you are ashamed of me! You shuddered when you said it! You are ashamed to love me ... you're always trying to change me. You are ashamed of me because I like the things all women like — clothes and parties, movies and just talking about us."
"Oh, my dear, no! You're wrong ... so wrong! I don't want to change you, ever! It's the fear that somehow you will change, be another, horrid person, not the sweet, small self you are tonight, that worries me.
"I want you and need you, Gloria, now and forevermore, more truly than any man ever wanted and needed a woman before in all the world. I don't want you to change — ever."
Reluctantly, she let him pull her hands from her eyes, and slowly slipped into his arms, looking up at him with moon-silvered face and dark, fearful eyes.
"Really, dearest?"
"Most truly, Gloria. I ask one thing, and make one prayer: that we be ever together, never apart, and never happy apart — you, I, and our love together everlasting; you, I, and our love alike never changing — to eternity!"
He kissed her very gently on each eyelid, and on the lips, and looked down again into her face. Slowly the haunting fear was leaving her moon-darkened eyes; she smiled up tremulously, believing now, and abruptly clung to him, her face buried against his coat, her hair gleaming silver under his fingers.
Thousands of people seemed to be congratulating him all day long. At least half of them, in retrospect, were Johnson and Banner, repeating at set intervals how lucky he was, and she was, and they were.
He never remembered much of the actual ceremony. The quickly installed organ moaned, and featureless faces surmounting elegantly clad bodies were packed into the huge room. He numbly watched Gloria, her father, little flower girls and page boys, and dozens of maids of honor march down the velvet toward him. Even Johnson, at his side, kept a dignified silence.
He had a vague impression of Gloria standing beside him in a flowing white gown. He mumbled something to someone who asked him something. He kissed her. Then sighs, tears, applause, hundreds of handshakes. There was a glass of champagne in his hand. That was gone. He was dancing with her. Eating.
They were whisking through the streets to the yacht basin. Everybody was talking and laughing. Banner was shaking his hand, saying: "Thought you'd get the best of me, huh? Got you right where I want you. Johnson and I thought you'd make a damn fine son-in-law. Had my eye on you all the time."
Johnson said: "Enjoy yourself, William. Neglect nothing that will make you happy. But remember, one week and not a second more. I can't spare you longer than that."
The launch took them back to the pier. Everybody on the dock waved and shouted and screamed. The ship tooted proudly and moved down the river.
Gloria stood on her toes and lifted her mouth toward Hale's. "For always, Billie-willie?" she murmured.
"For always, darling," he promised, gently definite. He had given immortality to the girl he loved — they were married for all eternity — and he had never been so happy in his life!
Chapter XIV
The moment he entered the office, Johnson sprang out of his chair and strutted forth to greet him, stomach and hand outstretched. "William, my boy! I certainly am glad to see you. You do look fit, I must say. Much better than when you left. Have a nice trip?"
"It was all right."
"Cruising around the Caribbean, only all right?"
"You yanked us back just when we were getting started."
Johnson soothed: "When things are more settled, you'll be able to take a round-the-world cruise if you want to. But we can't put pleasure before business, William. Right now everything is sizzling at once, and I really must —"
Hale broke in: "I've been thinking about something. Now that I have everything I want, I'd like to spread the cheer around to a few people who treated me decently."
"Anyone in particular?" Johnson asked, untroubled by the interruption.
"The Burkes, the janitors who took care of me. I'd like to make them happy if I can."
"How? Money, I suppose?"
"I guess so. Yeah, sure. That's what they need most."
Johnson pushed a buzzer with one hand, and shoved a pad and pencil toward Hale with the other. "Write the name and address."
When Hale had done so, Johnson handed the sheet to a prim middle-aged secretary who had appeared, and said: "Call up these people and find out where they came from. Get all the information you can squeeze out of them."
"I don't get it," said Hale. "Are we working on the Burkes already?"
"Of course, William. In our line of business, to think is to act. No time wasted; no false motions. You'll find that an excellent slogan to guide you while I'm away. Think a while, naturally; but the principal thing is to act, even if you're wrong." He hitched his chair closer. "Now I'll explain the situation in Europe. You know that we are responsible for the fact that this country is shipping aircraft to friendly nations. As a result, the balance of power has been upset. The dictatorships had been taking advantage of the military and psychological weakness of the democracies.
"But although the totalitarian nations had based their economies on the production of armaments for several years. America, within a short time, could produce more armaments than all those nations together! You really have no idea of our productive resources. For instance, we produce normally something like twenty-five thousand automobiles per week.
"It would require no great effort to convert a large fraction of our plant to the production of tanks and military trucks and supply carriers, and turn out several thousand airplanes per week as well. You can see what that could do to the production of the most industrialized of the dictatorships, about which they have been boasting recently — a mere ten thousand planes a year! Almost without disturbing our national economy, we can mechanize all the democratic armies, feed them, clothe them, and supply them with the world's most efficient weapons, in less time than you could imagine.
"The autocratic nations fully realize that. In any case, their economic systems are practically exhausted. They have been able to arm themselves as much as they have only by creating nearly self-sufficient economies: controlled currency, import restrictions, and so forth. If I leave them to themselves, they will go to war, in the hope of achieving a quick victory before American help can count.
"But you understand the philosophy of Hell. My strategy worked with its usual beautiful precision. The autocratic nations are experiencing a first-rate crisis, and the democracies feel rather secure for once. The dictatorships are close to war. Now, William, tell me what you would do if you were I."
Hale looked thoughtfully at his cigarette lighter. "What would I do? Why" — he lit the cigarette ponderously, giving himself time to think — "I guess I'd try to prevent war."
"Of course." Johnson nodded, pleased. "But for what purpose?"