"To you. Or hadn't you noticed?"

"I mean in general," Malone said desperately.

"In general," she said agreeably, "I'm here to take a little trip."

"Oh," Malone said. "By plane?"

She smiled sweetly and shook her head. "Not at all," she said. "I'm
waiting for the next scheduled broomstick."

Malone took a deep breath. "When does your plane leave?" he said
doggedly.

"In ten minutes or so," she said.

"Then you'd better hurry and get on," he said.

She nodded. "That's what I thought," she said.

A second passed.

"Did you want to say something?" Malone said uncomfortably.

She shook her head. "Not particularly," she said.

"Well, then--"

"The time _is_ growing short," she said.

"Isn't it, though?" Malone said, feeling a little mystified. "Well,
now. Goodbye. I'll see you soon."

"Goodbye," she said.

Another second passed.

"Your plane--" Malone started.

"How about yours?" she said.

"I'm all right," Malone said nervously. "But if your plane's leaving
in ten minutes you'd better get on it."

"I intend to," she said, without moving.

"Well--" Malone started.

"As soon as you quit blocking the ramp," she said. "Would you mind
terribly if I climbed over your head? Because I do have to get on
board."

"Now wait a minute," Malone said. "This isn't your plane."

"How do you know?" she said. "Do you own it? Are you flying it away?"

"Well," Malone said helplessly, "it's my plane, and there's nobody
going on it but--"

He paused. A great light seemed to burst in his mind, shedding a
perfectly horrible glow over the wreck of his mental processes. "You
know," he said in a tentative tone, "we never have been properly
introduced. I only know your name is Lou."

"That's what people call me," the girl said. "For short. I'm Luba
Garbitsch."

"And I'm Kenneth Malone," Malone said. "Kenneth J. Malone. Of the
FBI."

She nodded. "Yes," she said. "I know."

"Your father--"

"My father is going to Russia," she said, "and I am going along with
him."

"Oh," Malone said. "Sure. Sure. Oh."

There was a longer silence.

"Can I get on board now?" Luba said.

"There isn't any hurry," Malone said. "We're still waiting for--for
passengers. And this is one of them." He turned and indicated the
Queen. "This is Her--Rose Thompson. She'll be traveling along with
us."

Her Majesty was wearing a broad, broad grin, Malone noticed nervously
as he turned. Undoubtedly she had been tuned in to the whole