Hal laughed diffidently, and moved a little further away from her. He gazed around at the city, recognizing it with thirsty familiarity, happily part of it again. The experience of the past three months already seemed far away. "Hal," Lois murmured, suddenly aware of his rapidly growing coolness. "Hal, darling, what's wrong?" "Why nothing at all, uh, Lois." He looked at her uncomfortably for a moment, and backed a step further. "It's just--well, you know." "Oh no you don't," she cried, rushing up to him and grabbing his arm. "Where are you going--Dad!" "Please, Miss Bruchner," Hal murmured mildly, disengaging his arm from her. He gazed hungrily around him again the moment she let go, and looked back at her only when he was startled by a sudden, choking sob. Lois was staring at him, her fist to her mouth, the pale blue eyes brimming. "Oh no!" she cried tremulously. "Lois," Bruchner said, his voice sounding harsh with repressed emotions, "come in here. You've got to know what the situation is." He put his arm around her trembling shoulders and led her off, glaring at Hal in helpless fury. The moment they were out of sight, Hal turned and stepped back into the Aircab. He ordered it to take him home. His parents were there, watching a vic-entertainment, which Hal promptly turned off. "Who did that?" his father mumbled, coming immediately out of the trance. "Hal? That wasn't a very nice thing to do, son." "Why Hal," his mother sighed mildly. "You're not dead after all. How nice. Don't pay any attention to your father--it wasn't a very interesting vic anyway." "Shouldn't turn it off like that, though." "Um, sorry," Hal apologized gently. He relaxed into the comfortable, perfect fit of a Formair lounge. "Just thought I'd let you know I'm still alive." "Well, we're glad," his mother murmured absently. "Must have been pretty awful." "That's the funny thing about it, though--I didn't mind it a bit at the time. Very curious. I had an Outlander woman with me--Bruchner's daughter, as a matter of fact." "Oh dear," Mrs. Webber sighed. "Poor Hal." "Well, like I say, it wasn't exactly mild, but it was quite tolerable, somehow." He frowned just slightly, and shook his head at the puzzling incongruity. He recalled his three months of association with the uncivilized woman, somewhat wistfully contemplating strong, overpowering sentiments in a chaotic wilderness. "Anyway," he said at last, "I'm home again, and it's all over. I won't have to have anything to do with her now." "Yes," Mrs. Webber murmured. "Odd that you should have survived though, isn't it? I thought a civilized man in the wilderness would die almost at once." Webber gave the cultured equivalent of a mild snort. "Of course he could survive. Oh--" and he laughed softly in apology "--that's right. I forgot to tell you about that."