Joe stood up abruptly. He clenched his fists and looked at his wife's still form and gradually the anger dulled and left him. He had no right to be angry. Everybody got tempermental once in a while. But this was the first time she had ever cursed him. "O.K.," he said softly. "I'll see you tonight." * * * * * The regional offices of Mars Imports and Exports sat upon a hill at the end--or the beginning--of Ila Boulevard, depending upon which way you were going. It was twenty-five-hundred feet of silver and native marble, and covered four city blocks, and Joe Caradac was top man--literally--since his office and personal staff took up the whole two-hundred and fifty-first floor. His morning mail--about twelve letters weeded out of the daily thousands--was gotten out of the way with skill and dispatch. Grinning, he propped his feet on the low, curving window sill and said: "Miss Kal--take an audiogram." Miss Kal used two of her arms to adjust pad and stylus, looking up expectantly. Her other arms were busy transcribing a previously dictated letter into Venusian--her native tongue, although she spoke sixty-eight--and tugging at a humidified legging that had somehow worked down almost to the floor. "My dearest, darling monkey--" Joe began. Miss Kal looked up again in amazement. Joe grinned at her and said, "It's to my wife." Miss Kal nodded wisely and began to write. "--I am sending this from my dark and dismal office," Joe went on. It was a habit they had when anything went wrong at breakfast. Joe had first proposed by audiogram. He casually watched a skimmer that was in danger of creating a honey of a traffic jam down below. Didn't that schlemiel know his left from his right? "--Where was I? Oh, yes--my dark and dismal office." Joe scratched a cigarette alight, blew a happy smoke ring. "I hope that you are feeling much, _much_ better and that you will take luncheon with me in the Pluto Room of the you-know-what Hotel--" His mind went back to those honeymoon days and he lost track of his dictation again. Another smoke ring, a somewhat more thoughtful one. "You-know-what Hotel--" said Miss Kal phlegmatically. "Yes--ah--just end it 'at one fifteen sharp, your everloving Joe.'" There was a knock on the door and Miss Kal set down her pad and stylus and started to get up. Joe was on his feet and around the desk in a second. "Stay right where you are," he smiled; "I need the exercise." Miss Kal smiled also and settled back into her specially built chair with its temperature and humidity controls. A present from Mr. Caradac. He was such a nice being to work for. Joe opened the door, and said, "Oh, hullo, Kent. Since when are you knocking?" Big Kent nodded formally to Miss Kal and winked at Joe. He said, "Yoe, there's something I'd like to talk over with you in private." With a sigh, Miss Kal rose again and made her way through the other door into her little office. The door closed behind her.