knew. And so did Betsy. She was watching him with a warm look that spoke her feelings. Pete was staring off into space, no doubt following down some logical train.

The others were each reacting in their separate ways. Paul was interested but probably had no idea of what it really was about. Rita, in her maternal self-absorption, was not really concerned. Polly was watching him with sympathy for him as a man, but not with any basic understanding. Sam, with his dead-pan face was hard to read. His penetrating eyes saw deeply, but what they saw was hard to tell. Herb was looking around him with awkward movements; he was probably feeling very shy at the thought of a new member. Marcia, Tom thought, might well be good for him, teach him a greater social finesse.

And there was Joan, leaning forward intently, no doubt wondering how Marcia would affect the artistic balance of the group. Mike was looking interested but not concerned. And Esther was sitting back in her chair with a vague smile on her lips. Probably, Tom thought with a mental chuckle, she was already planning some suitable induction ceremony.

From here on out, Tom sensed, it was only a matter of formality. Other discussion there would be; arguments, perhaps. But in the end, Marcia would be admitted by unanimous vote. And he was content that it be so.

Transcriber Notes:

This etext was produced from Science Fiction Stories 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

Obvious punctuation errors have been corrected.