By the time she returned to her seat, refusing to react to Erik's tight-pressing knee as she squeezed past him, the red "No Smoking" sign was flashing. The excited young redhead peered eagerly out the window, surprised to see how very different the Danish countryside looked from the New England scenery she had grown up with. Instead of neat rows of white frame houses separated by white picket fences, that were so characteristic of American countryside, the Danish houses were painted in bright shades of gold and blue, and all the roofs seemed to be made of a red tile that gleamed in the bright sunlight.

"Oh, I'm so excited!" she exclaimed.

"Me, too," he agreed. "I'm always glad to come home. Traveling is all right, but I'm happiest here in Copenhagen."

Now they were flying over low red brick apartment houses, and the airplane was steadily falling lower and lower.

"Where are you staying?" Erik asked. "Some friends delivered my car to the airport parking lot, and I'd be glad to give you a lift into town."

"Oh, I don't have anything planned," Jill answered. "I didn't want to waste money on a hotel, so I thought I'd start to look for an apartment of my own right away."

"I'm afraid that's not going to be very easy," the blond man warned her. "It's almost impossible to find flats in the center of town, especially if you don't know anyone. And if you go to an agency for help, you'll pay a lot more than you would have at a cheap hotel. But it's too late to think of that now, I guess. All the hotels are full this time of the year. Why, you'll find kids sleeping in all the parks."