Hal's fingers drummed nervously on the desk top, and his father again raised an eyebrow in mild concern. He shook his head thoughtfully. Guiltily, Hal stopped his fingers from their satisfying tattoo. He bunched them into a fist instead, and then gazed at it with mild unbelief. "All right," he finally whispered. "This is simply awful. And it looks as if in order to be cured, I'll have to get me a wife along with it. A pity, though. Everything was perfectly mild without one." "You'll be mild with a wife, Hal," his father assured him softly. "You don't like the prospect now, because it means change. Change, of course, is always unpleasant. But the Treatment will take care of it all right. I know that I didn't expect things to work out so mildly with a wife. It was optional back in those days, and if it hadn't been for your mother's family money, I never would have married. Particularly her--with her family history of fecundity. As witnessed by the children we produced--you and your sister. But Formair needed the money, and I was the only available man in the Webber clan. When I agreed to make the sacrifice, they made me president of the firm, because it isn't often that a man will do so much for his own family. Shows real character. It's in the cultured family blood, naturally." Hal had heard all this many, many times before, but he listened without irritation. Or at least, with only the mild irritation that was the result of his present unstable condition. "Yes indeed," his father went on in his mild, comfortable voice. "Hardly knew she was around the house, though, once the Treatment was over with. It was just as if she had been around all my life. Marvelous process." "All right," Hal murmured. "I'll take it." "Be a good idea to pick out a wife first. Sometimes there are a few minor adjustments to make because of outstanding individual characteristics. You get an absolutely perfect fit that way, you know." He stood up and walked toward the door, the flabby muscles of his body easily supporting the two pounds relative of his weight. "The Ansermet family has a female available, I believe," he murmured as he walked. "Excellent choice. But you better have the probability checked anyway." "I know about her," Hal replied thoughtfully. "But what's she like? Have you ever met her?" His father smiled benignly back at him, as he practically floated through the doorway. "That doesn't matter a bit," he said mildly. "It doesn't make any difference at all what either of you are like. The Treatment will bring you both back to absolute, statistical normal, and you'll both be a perfect fit for each other. Quite pleasantly civilized." The door hummed shut behind him. "Well," Hal announced aloud to himself, "guess that's it."