"And one," agreed the girl, "sensitive as the nerve of a tooth. It must be that. It couldn't be anything else. So there is Harg's weakness. Now, if we can only find some way to play upon it—"
Larry said gloomily, "But he still is the only one who can return us to our own time."
Sandra's hand touched his swiftly, confidently.
"We'll find some way to make him," she whispered. "We'll do it, you and I—"
Even under these circumstances Larry Wilson found the touch of that hand thrilling, the confidence of Sandra's voice, with its "you and I," endearing. It was a jest of the gods that this new glory should have come to him at last in such a situation. But the year mattered little. Time or no Time, he knew, and he thought she knew—
"Sandra," he said, "there is one thing—"
"Shhh!" she caution
