Blade nodded and waved. The man was right. He turned into Mount Row and headed for Carlos Place. Meg was waiting. She had given him this last chance.

Blade could not understand why he was going back to Meg's place. He was a proud man, even an arrogant man at times, and he had no ill opinion of himself. He had earned every decoration the British Government could bestow; he had seven times faced the terrors of Dimension X and survived; in brain and physique he considered himself the equal of any man in the world.

Yet a limp bit of flesh between his legs was making a fool and a coward of him.

He did not really want to go to Meg's flat. He did not want to see Meg again. Or did he? Was he lying to himself? Did he want to see her, for one purpose-to show her how wrong she was?

He had reached her flat now and stood still, his finger poised over the button, hesitating in the foyer like a school boy about to enter his first brothel. People brushed past him, coming and going, and he did not see them.

Meg had been kindly, but explicit. She could not hide her pity or her disappointment and slight contempt, and Blade was consumed, as he was consumed now, with a baffled rage and hurt and a senseless shame that only a man could know. Nothing helped. Nothing could help or ever would until he was a complete man again.

«We'll try once again,» she had promised. «The third time might be the charm. We will just have to see. And if nothing happens we will just have to say goodbye, Richard, for you will be no good to me. Now go home, love. Rest and don't drink too much. Goodbye. See you in two days.»

Blade raised his finger once more and poised it over the button. One slight pressure and the buzzer would go. Meg was up there waiting. Ultimatum. Third time. Fail three times running and you are out. Rules of the game.