He leaned forward as he finished; took the silver decoration from its case and pinned it to the breast of Ross' sleeper jacket.
"Thank you, sir," Ross said. "I do appreciate it."
The other eyed him keenly. "Your face doesn't match your words, Mr. Ross," he observed. "Perhaps it's because you feel you've lost something more important to you than all the FedGov's medals."
For the first time, Ross' head lifted from its pillow. The hand that clutched his coverlet suddenly was shaking.
In the same moment, the blue-uniformed group behind Commandant Padora parted.
Pressing between the men, she darted to Ross; fell on her knees beside his bed. And though her dark eyes streamed tears and her forehead still showed its ugly bruised streak, never had her face been lovelier or more radiant.
"Stewart--!" she choked. "Oh, Stewart, my darling...."
"As I said," Commandant Padora announced to no one in particular, "Mr. Ross' efforts gave us both the time and opportunity to take care of all aspects of the situation at Mawson's warehouse."
It was doubtful if Ross and Veta even heard him....