’ Footsteps sounded just outside, and Captain Roding walked in. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch. ‘What are the chances, do you think, of that thing being already cocked?’ ‘Probably not even loaded,’ suggested Hilary hopefully. His analytical bent saved him many times, though he was not sensitive to this. She floundered deep. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face.
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