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- Исаак Азимов
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Noys
was
still
closer
,
her
face
not
quite
clear
in
his
gaze
.
He
could
feel
her
hair
against
his
cheek
,
the
warm
,
light
pressure
of
her
breath
.
He
ought
to
draw
away
,
but
-
strangely
,
strangely
-
he
found
he
did
not
want
to
.
"
If
I
were
made
an
Eternal
.
.
.
"
she
breathed
,
almost
in
his
ear
,
though
the
words
were
scarcely
heard
above
the
beating
of
his
heart
.
Her
lips
were
moist
and
parted
.
"
Wouldn
’
t
you
like
to
?
"
He
did
not
know
what
she
meant
,
but
suddenly
he
didn
’
t
care
.
He
seemed
in
flames
.
He
put
out
his
arms
clumsily
,
gropingly
.
She
did
not
resist
,
but
melted
and
coalesced
with
him
.
It
all
happened
dreamily
,
as
though
it
were
happening
to
someone
else
.
It
wasn
’
t
nearly
as
repulsive
as
he
had
always
imagined
it
must
be
.
It
came
as
a
shock
to
him
,
a
revelation
,
that
it
wasn
’
t
repulsive
at
all
.
Even
afterward
,
when
she
leaned
against
him
with
her
eyes
all
soft
and
smiling
a
little
,
he
found
he
had
to
reach
out
and
stroke
her
damp
hair
with
slow
and
trembling
delight
.
She
was
entirely
different
in
his
eyes
now
.
She
was
not
a
woman
,
not
an
individual
at
all
.
She
was
suddenly
an
aspect
of
himself
.
She
was
,
in
a
strange
and
unexpected
way
,
a
part
of
himself
.
The
spatio
-
temporal
chart
said
nothing
of
this
,
yet
Harlan
felt
no
guilt
.
It
was
only
the
thought
of
Finge
that
aroused
strong
emotion
in
Harlan
’
s
breast
.
And
that
wasn
’
t
guilt
.
Not
at
all
.
It
was
satisfaction
,
even
triumph
!
