It had been there all the time. You don't include someone in everything you do and everything you think without it. You don't try to change her and yourself. To make her perfect. To make yourself perfect with--and for--her without it. This business about "accepting" little faults--as well as big ones--, he decided, is for the birds. It's human nature to translate other people in terms of yourself and try to change them in terms of yourself. To argue and be proud and hate like hell to have to make up. But you don't make a project of it with everyone. Not unless.... He and Julie had a lot to talk about. Then he remembered where he was and when he was. He thought of Doctor Schink. And suddenly he was scared. He remembered what Ilaria had said about Schink. 'He's there for good....' "He's never said a word about my going back!" "Neither have you," came Ilaria's voice, and Jay whirled around to see the big psychologist coming through the door. "We'd like to keep you here as long as possible. But not against your wishes, of course. You were shanghaied, not kidnaped." The left corner of his wide mouth pulled back in that slow, reassuring smile. "I stand chastised. Now I've thought of it, though, I can hardly wait." "The day after tomorrow? I want you to hear Caesar speak. Then I want to talk a good deal more." "Early, the day after tomorrow." Then, little-boyishly, Jay hurriedly added a couple of reasons. "I'm getting tired of talking and being questioned. I feel like a talking animal in the zoo." Ilaria nodded, smiling. "Julie? "I figured it would occur to you sooner or later. Just because you think a little more deeply and carefully than most men of your time doesn't make you immune to love. That belongs to _all_ times. Good luck and a lot of children." Jay grinned. He'd met Ilaria's wife and five of his six children the night before. He turned to look out the window once more. Beautiful. The elevated streets, with gyro-cars hurtling along ... the sky full of more winged gyros and planes ... the streets below full of happy, white-faced, white-clad people.... White-faced! "Kevin, you avoided my question the day before yesterday. I've been almost afraid to ask you again. Why no Negroes?" "It will be hard for you to accept, with your antiquated democratic ideas." Ilaria breathed a deep sigh. "Certain elements of dissension and unrest, Jay, are better eliminated. Coloreds have always bred both. People are just like that. Whites and yellows and tans and reds can get along, but not blacks." Jay had gotten along with them all his life. "In ancient Rome there were slaves ..." he said, trying to understand. "Not in this Rome. I said, better eliminated, Jay." Ilaria went to the window and looked down at the scene below. He explained: "We exterminated them." A hammer crashed down. A door slammed. A glass shattered. A siren screeched. A punch caught Jay in the solar plexus. Jay had experienced all these. Ilaria's flat statement was worse.