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She closed the access plate. "Will you help me down, dear?"
I lifted her down with both hands, held on to her, claimed a kiss for
payment. She smiled up at me. "Thank you, sir! My, my, I had forgotten how nice
it is to be married. We should get married more often."
"Now?"
"No. Lunchtime now. Breakfast was hearty but it is now past fourteen. Feel
like eating?"
"It's good exercise," I assented. "How about the Sloppy Joe on Appian Way
near ring one-oh-five? Or do you want haute cuisine?"
"A Sloppy Joe is okay; I'm not a fussy eater, dear. But I don't think we
should go outside for lunch; we might not be able to get back in."
"Why not? You do a slick job of bypassing a change in a door combo."
"Richard, it might not be that easy again. They simply haven't noticed, as
yet, that locking me out didn't work. But when they do- They can weld a steel
plate across the doorway if that is what it takes. Not that it will, as I shan't
fight being moved any more than you did. Let's eat lunch; then I'll pack. What
would you like?"
It turned out that Gwen had salvaged from my buttery gourmet items I had in
freeze or in sterile pack. I do stock unusual viands. How can you know ahead of
time, when working on a story in the middle of the night, that you are going to
suffer a craving for a clam sundae? It is merely prudent to have materials on
hand
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