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Paperback
First published April 1, 1978

["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>Britannia munched and swallowed and thought in a vague way about Professor Luitingh van Thien; an ill-tempered man, and arrogant, she considered, then looked up in astonishment as he opened the door and walked in. And over and above that, she discovered with an almighty shock, the man she wished to marry; she had been in and out of love quite a few times, as any healthy-minded girl of twenty four or so would, but never had she felt like this.
Nevertheless, all she said in a mild voice was: "You should have knocked, Professor."
The cold eyes studied hers. "Why?"
She said with some asperity: "Manners."
His thick dark brows rose, and then: "But I have none," and he went on deliberately, "I am getting on for forty, unmarried, rich and something of a hermit; I need please no one."
"How very sad," observed Britannia with sincerity. "Did you want something?"
The lids drooped over his eyes. "Yes. I also wish to ask you a question. Why Britannia?"
She took a sip of her cooling coffee and stared at him over the mug's rim. "My parents decided that with a name like Smith they should -- should compensate me."
He broke into such a roar of laughter...
...she wasn't likely to see him again, at least not to speak to. "And that's negative thinking, my girl," she admonished herself out loud. "If you want to see him again, you must work at it."
A heartening piece of advice, which she knew quite well was quite hollow. The professor wasn't the kind of man to be chased, even if the girl chasing him had made up her mind to marry him. She sighed; probably she would have to rely on Fate, and that lady was notoriously unpredictable.
It stopped within a foot of Britannia and she looked over her shoulder to see Professor Luitingh van Thien get out. She had the bird in her hand and said without preamble: "I think its wing is broken-what shall I do?"
"Fool," said the professor with icy forcefulness, "darting into the road in that thoughtless fashion. I might have squashed you flat, or worse, gone into a skid and damaged the car."
He held out a hand. "Give me that bird."
She handed it over, for once unable to think of anything to say. So dreams did come true, after all, but he hardly seemed in the mood to share her pleasure in the fact. She stood, the rain washing over her in a relentless curtain, while he examined the small creature with gentle hands. "I'll take it with me," he said finally, and nodded briefly before getting back into his car. Britannia, made of stuff worthy of her name, followed him.
"Do you live near here?" she asked.
"Yes." He gave her a cold look which froze the words hovering on her tongue, and drove away.
She stood in the road and watched him go. "I must be mad," she cried to the sodden landscape around her. "He's the nastiest man I've ever set eyes on!" She went back to collect her bike and got on to it and rode off towards Hoenderloo. "But he took the bird," she reminded herself, "and he could have wrung its neck."
"The bird's wing has been set; it will be cared for until it is fit to fly again." He spoke unsmilingly, but she didn't notice that, she looked at him with delight. "Isn't it incredible?" she declared. "I mean, meeting like this after the sluice at St Jude's and now you here, almost next door, as it were."
He looked down his splendid nose. "I can see nothing incredible about it," he said repressively. "It is a coincidence, Britannia, they occur from time to time."
He could call it that if he liked. She thought secretly of good fairies and kindly Fate and smiled widely. "Well, you don't need to be so cross about it. I've never met such a prickly man. Have you been crossed in love or something?"
The ferocious expression which passed over the professor's handsome features might have daunted anyone of lesser spirit than hers. "You abominable girl!" he ground out savagely. "I have never met anyone like you…'
Britannia lifted a hand to tuck back a wet strand of hair. "What you need," she told him kindly, "is a wife and a family."
His mouth quivered momentarily. "Why?"
She answered him seriously. "Well, you would have them to look after and care for and love, and they'd love you and bring you your slippers in the evening, and…'
His voice was a well-controlled explosion. "For God's sake, girl," he roared, "be quiet! Of all the sickly sentimental ideas…!"
Two tears welled up in Britannia's fine eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks. The professor muttered strongly in his own language, and with the air of a man goaded beyond endurance, got out of his car.
"Why are you crying? I suppose that you will tell me that it's my fault."
Britannia gave a sniff, wiped her eyes on a delicate scrap of white lawn and then blew her nose. "No, of course it's not your fault, because you can't help it, can you? It's just very sad that you should think of a wife and children as being nothing more than s-sickly s-sentiment." Two more tears spilled over and she wiped them away impatiently as a child would, with the back of her hand.
The professor was standing very close to her. When he spoke it was with surprising gentleness. "I didn't mean that. I was angry."
She said in a woeful voice, "But you're always losing your temper - every time we meet you rage and roar at me."
"I neither rage nor roar, Britannia. Possibly I am a little ill-tempered at times." The gentleness had a decidedly chilly edge to it now.
"Oh, yes, you do," she answered him with spirit. "You terrify me." She peeped at him, to see him frowning.
"I cannot believe that you are terrified of anyone or anything, certainly not of me. Try that on some other man, my dear girl, I'm not a fool."
He gave a great laugh. "I shan't say goodbye until the very last minute, Britannia, and that is still two days away. I shall spend the evening persuading you to marry me."
The pink dress must be doing its work very well. She said in her calm way: "That will be a waste of time, and you know it."
"I shall have you in the end."
She allowed a few seconds of delight at the prospect and then damped it down with common sense.