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The girl's step almost faltered. Major Carmody's hand reached out, steadied her.
Something was wrong again. But what? He could not guess.
Lance came out of his paralysis. He began running towards her.
And in a moment, they were in each other's arms without caring why or how: Lance Cooper and the girl he loved. Kissing, hugging, unable to believe for a moment in each other's reality.
Then, Carolyn had to have breath and she drew apart for a moment. Then, she kissed him again. And Lance, for the first time, listened and made sense out of the welter of hysterical sobbing words that were pouring forth:
"Darling, darling, darling Lance! I cried so much, and now it's all over. I don't care if you're not real. I love you, I love you! I don't care if you are somebody from another time-track like Major Carmody says! You're my Lance and you belong to me. It's you I love and want now; no matter how shameless I sound!... Yes, darling, it's you I want, not that poor broken thing we buried two months ago. Not the--"
Lance's feeling of impending horror was great, but not so great that he shrank from the question that now rose and beat and beat at his brain.
The overwhelming question that had to be asked.
"Carolyn!" He held her so tight he thought for a moment he'd cracked her ribs. His half-shook gaze penetrated her retreating eyes, forcing her to meet him.
"Carolyn! What do you mean--it's _me_ you want now, not that poor broken thing you buried? Tell me. TELL ME!"
"Don't you know, darling Lance? When you took off that night eight weeks ago, that night I kissed you good-by, your s.h.i.+p ... oh don't you comprehend?... Your s.h.i.+p, it--"
"Tell me, Carolyn!"
"Your s.h.i.+p, Lance, that's it over there--the wreckage of it! The _Cosmos XII_ crashed on take-off that night, Lance. You were killed out-right.
We buried you two days later."
THE END