"No."
"Anyone called on him lately?'
"Only tradespeople - and you."
"Anything unusual happen at all?"
"Only you."
"Forget me, will you? No, don't forget me. Tell me, how did you know your father was expecting me?"
"Oh, that was easy. Last week, he received a Personal Capsule, keyed to him personally, with a self-oxidizing message, you know. He threw the capsule shell into the Trash Disinto, and yesterday, he gave Poli - that's our maid, you see - a month's vacation so she could visit her sister in Terminus City, and this afternoon, he made up the bed in the spare room. So I knew he expected somebody that I wasn't supposed to know anything about. Usually, he tells me everything."
"Really! I'm surprised he has to. I should think you'd know everything before he tells you."
'I usually do." Then she laughed. She was beginning to feel very much at ease. The visitor was elderly, but very distinguished-looking with curly brown hair and very blue eyes. Maybe she could meet somebody like that again, sometimes, when she was old herself.
"And just how," he asked, "did you know it was I he expected."
"Well, who else could it be? He was expecting somebody in so secrety a way, if you know what I mean - and then you come gumping around trying to sneak through windows, instead of walking through the front door, the way you would if you had any sense." She remembered a favorite line, and used it promptly. "Men are so stupid!"
"Pretty stuck on yourself, aren't you, kid? I mean, Miss. You could be wrong, you know. What if I told you that all this is a mystery to me and that as far as I know, your father is expecting someone else, not me."
"Oh, I don't think so. I didn't ask you to come in, until after I saw you drop your briefcase."
"My what?"
"Your briefcase, young man. I'm not blind. You didn't drop it by accident, because you looked down first, so as to make sure it would land right. Then you must have realized it would land just under the hedges and wouldn't be seen, so you dropped it and didn't look down afterwards. Now since you came to the window instead of the front door, it must mean that you were a little afraid to trust yourself in the house before investigating the place. And after you had a little trouble with me, you took care of your briefcase before taking care of yourself, which means that you consider whatever your briefcase has in it to be more valuable than your own safety, and that means that as long as you're in here and the briefcase is out there and we know that it's out there, you're probably pretty helpless."
She paused for a much-needed breath, and the man said, grittily, "Except that I think I'll choke you just about medium dead and get out of here, with the briefcase."
"Except, young man, that I happen to have a baseball bat under my bed, which I can reach in two seconds from where I'm sitting, and I'm very strong for a girl."
Impasse. Finally, with a strained courtesy, the "young man" said, "Shall I introduce myself, since we're being so chummy. I'm Pelleas Anthor. And your name?"
"I'm Arca- Arkady Darell. Pleased to meet you."
"And now Arkady, would you be a good little girl and call your father?"
Arcadia bridled. "I'm not a little girl. I think you're very rude - especially when you're asking a favor."
Pelleas Anthor sighed. "Very well. Would you be a good, kind, dear, little old lady, just chock full of lavender, and call your father?"
"That's not what I meant either, but I'll call him. Only not so I'll take my eyes off you, young man." And she stamped on the floor.
There came the sound of hurrying footsteps in the hall, and the door was flung open.
"Arcadia-" There was a tiny explosion of exhaled air, and Dr. Darell said, "Who are you, sir?"
Pelleas sprang to his feet in what was quite obviously relief. "Dr. Toran Darell? I am Pelleas Anthor. You've received word about me, I think. At least, your daughter says you have."
"My daughter says I have?" He bent a frowning glance at her which caromed harmlessly off the wide-eyed and impenetrable web of innocence with which she met the accusation.
Dr. Darell said, finally: "I have been expecting you. Would you mind coming down with me, please?" And he stopped as his eye caught a flicker of motion, which Arcadia caught simultaneously.
She scrambled toward her Transcriber, but it was quite useless, since her father was standing right next to it. He said, sweetly, "You've left it going all this time, Arcadia."
"Father," she squeaked, in real anguish, "it is very ungentlemanly to read another person's private correspondence, especially when it's talking correspondence."
"Ah," said her father, "but 'talking correspondence' with a strange man in your bedroom! As a father, Arcadia, I must protect you against evil."
"Oh, golly - it was nothing like that."
Pelleas laughed suddenly, "Oh, but it was, Dr. Darell. The young lady was going to accuse me of all sorts of things, and I must insist that you read it, if only to clear my name."
"Oh-" Arcadia held back her tears with an effort. Her own father didn't even trust her. And that darned Transcriber- If that silly fool hadn't come gooping at the window, and making her forget to turn it off. And now her father would be making long, gentle speeches about what young ladies aren't supposed to do. There just wasn't anything they were supposed to do, it looked like, except choke and die, maybe.
"Arcadia," said her father, gently, "it strikes me that a young lady-"
She knew it. She knew it.