Waiting alone in the midst of her uncle’s grotesque curios, with the arcane aroma of fresh mulberry pies wafting in from outside, the still-proud Princess thought once more of Senator Mike, the mysterious stranger with the large dog. He was now, according to the message on the dagger, the hapless captive of mind-devouring space aliens.
   Just then, came a knock at the door, and she dropped the brimming wine glass heedlessly on the rug. He was here! “I’ve been mad, simply mad, without you to douse my fires, my giddy little goose!” he intoned with a confidence that brooked neither denial nor disagreement.
   At long last the horror of these last months vanished in a blaze of joy, and as the truth — the whole truth — slowly came home to her, she began to wonder how she would explain all this to Lawrence.