“It almost does,” Connor whispered. “A perfect security system. Even if you lost your lighter at the theatre, when somebody else picked it up it would cease to be what it was.”

“Or when somebody breaks into your home.”

“Believe me, it was only because I had to see you again, Angie. You know that I love you.”

“Do you, Philip?”

“Yes, darling.” He was thrilled to hear the special softness return to her voice. “Look, you have to let me pay for a new lighter and television and…”

Angela was shaking her head. “You couldn’t do it, Philip.”

“Why not?” He took her hand and was further encouraged when she allowed it to remain in his.

She gave him a tremulous smile. “You just couldn’t. The installments are too high.”

“Installments? For God’s sake, Angie, you don’t buy stuff on time.”

“You can’t buy these things—you pay for a service. I pay in installments of eight hundred and sixty-four thousand dollars.”

“A year?”

“Once every forty-three days. I shouldn’t be telling you all this, but…”

Connor gave an incredulous laugh. “That comes to about six million a year—nobody would pay that much!”

“Some people would. If you even have to think about the cost Mr. Smith doesn’t do business with you.”

“But…” Connor incautiously leaned within range of Angela’s perfume and it took his mind. “You realize,” he said in a weak voice, “that all your new toys come from the future? There’s something fantastically wrong about the whole set-up.”

“I’ve missed you, Philip.”

“That perfume you’re wearing—did it come from Mr. Smith, too?”

“I tried not to miss you, but I did.” Angela pressed her face against his, and he felt the coolness of tears on her cheek. He kissed her hungrily as she moved down from the chair to kneel against him. Connor spun towards the center of a whirlpool of ecstasy.