“Larry!” she repeated it excellently. “And you?”

“Goodwin,” said Rador.

I bowed quite as though I were being introduced to some charming young lady met in that old life now seemingly aeons removed.

“Yes⁠—Goodwin,” she said. “Oft and oft I came. Sometimes I thought you saw me. And he ⁠—did he not dream of me sometime⁠—?” she asked wistfully.

“He did.” I said, “and watched for you.” Then amazement grew vocal. “But how came you?” I asked.