He stopped in the doorway and looked at Jane. Looked to actually see her which was not the same as the ordinary looking people usually did. There was a stoop in her slim shoulders and something--well, something in the way she carried her body. Tired-like. She'd been so deuced pretty when he'd married her; so pretty he'd just had to have her and that was the only way. Why kid himself? He'd married her because he wanted her and love, if there really was such a thing, had come afterward. But it had come; or maybe it was habit. Anyhow, he couldn't think of life anymore except in terms of Jane and Biddy. But it would be nice if just one more time--just one night--there could be the old spark, the old breathless fire that flamed so briefly and had now smouldered down into a sort of tired consideration--an habitual companionship with each knowing the other's habits and likings and responding automatically. But what the hell? What could you expect in this day and age? With tension for breakfast and dinner and supper. With those two space stations floating around up there waiting to blow the world up. Watching day and night. There was little room to think of anything else. * * * * * Jane turned with an armful of clothes and saw him. Her smile was a quick up-turning of her lips and then it was gone. "Home, dear? Have a hard day?" "Rough. We moved three hundred head in from the north range to the loading platforms." Jane pushed past him and laid the clothes on the kitchen table. She straightened and pushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "Three hundred head. That's quite a few. What are they worth apiece, Dan?" "Around two hundred and fifty dollars probably." "And with all that money old Sam can't give you a little raise. I think it's a sin." "It isn't clear money, hon. Not by any means." "All the same--" Dan caught her as she tried to pass and kissed her. She responded after a fashion but when it was over it was over. "I've got to get the potatoes on. You go sit on the front porch, I'll call you." "Where's Biddy?" Jane stopped with a gesture of frustration as though this was something she'd forgotten. "Oh, that child! I sent her to her room, Dan." "To her room? Why?" "I just had to. We've got to do something about that imagination of hers. She can't separate reality from fantasy anymore." "What was it this time?" "Something about a cave up in the ridges with a big metal box in it. The Eastern Bloc is going to use it to blow our station out of the sky." * * * * * Dan shrugged. "Kids live in their own world, honey. Isn't sending her to her room a little rough?" "I had to. She was going down to tell Cecil Bates about it. Can you imagine what--?" Dan laughed. "He'd have probably arrested her for spreading rumors. I'll take her out on the porch and talk to her, okay?" "Just so you keep her out of my hair until I get supper ready."