“Do you like it?” she asked, pirouetting gayly.
“Fine!” he applauded, and it was. The tailor had understated tremendously both his ability and the resources of his shop.
“Now what? I don’t have to stay in my room all the time now, please?”
“I’ll say not. The ship is yours. I want you to get acquainted with every man on board. Go anywhere you like—except the private quarters, of course—even to the control room. The boys all know that you’re at large.”
“The language—but I’m talking English now!”
“Sure. I’ve been giving it to you right along. You know it as well now as I do.”
She stared at him in awe. Then, her natural buoyancy asserting itself, she flitted out of the room with a wave of her hand.
And Kinnison sat down to think. A girl—a kid who wasn’t dry behind the ears yet—wearing b
