ed was to get this girl angry at him.

"Oh, no," Malone said. "I'm not blind. Not blind at all." He smiled at
her and stood up. His tail throbbed a little, but it didn't seem to be
anything really serious. "I'm just polite," he said, and smiled again.
His face was beginning to get a little tired, but he retained his last
smile as he went over to her, extended a hand and pulled her to her
feet.

She was something special. Her hair was long and dark, and fell in
soft waves to her shoulders. The shoulders were something all by
themselves, but Malone postponed consideration of them for a minute to
take a look at her face.

It was heart-shaped and rather thin. She had large brown liquid eyes
that could look, Malone imagined, appealing, loving, worshiping--or,
like a minute ago, downright furious. Below these features she had a
straight lovely nose and a pair of lips which Malone immediately
classified as kissable.

Her figure, including the shoulders, was on the slim side, but she was
very definitely all there. Malone couldn't think of any parts the
Creator had left out, and if there were any he didn't want to hear
about them. In an instant, Malone knew that he had met the only great
love of his life.

Again.

His mind was whirling, and for a second he didn't know what to do. And
then he remembered the Queen's Own FBI. Phrases flowered forth in his
mind as if it were a garden packed corner to corner with the most
exquisite varieties of blooming idiots.

"My deepest apologies, my dear," Sir Kenneth Malone said gallantly,
even managing a small display bow for the occasion. "May I be of any
assistance?"

The girl smiled up at him as she came to her feet. The smile was
radiant and beautiful and almost loving. Malone felt as if he couldn't
stand it. Tingles of the most wonderful kind ran through him, reached
his toes and then back the other way, meeting a whole new set going
forward.

"You're very nice," the girl said, and the tingles became positive
waves of sensation. "Actually, it was all my fault. Please don't
apologize, Mr.--" She paused expectantly.

"Me?" Malone said, his gallantry deserting him for the second. But it
returned full force before he expected it. "I'm Malone," he said.
"Kenneth Joseph Malone." He had always liked the middle name he had
inherited from his father, but he never had much opportunity to use
it. He made the most of it now, rolling it out with all sorts of
subsidiary flourishes. As a