Bart was waiting for me, several nights later, when I got in from the hospital. He was lying on the couch when I closed the door. His shirt was open at the neck, and he didn't even move as I hung up my jacket in the closet. Then he said: "Hi, Ben. Been waiting for you." "Beer?" He shook his head and sat up. He looked like he'd been through the dishwasher. There were grey circles under his eyes, and he hadn't shaved for a couple of days. But, worst of all was the look in his eyes--a look of bewilderment and torture I'd never seen there before. "You look like hell," I said. "I feel like hell." "Marny?" He nodded, and lit a cigarette. After a puff or two he snubbed it out in distaste. "Let's get some dinner," he said. All the way down to the diner he sat in the car with his chin sunk in his chest. Finally he was facing me in a booth, and he couldn't avoid my eyes any longer. "Marny and I had a talk last night." "That's nice," I said. "What did you decide?" "Oh, it was awful. Why can't I keep my big yap shut once in a while? I tried to reason with her, Ben. And she was so damn calm and collected, and wouldn't budge an inch, so I started losing my temper, and then she really blew up--" He looked at me miserably. "She's too good to lose, Ben. It doesn't matter what it involves." I looked up, wide-eyed. "_What?_" He couldn't meet my eyes. "I'm not going. I'm mailing my resignation to Dillon tonight." I just gaped at him. "Say that again, slower." "It's no go, Ben. I'm staying home." "So you can marry that girl?" He nodded silently. "So that's it," I said disgustedly. "The kitty cat has really shown her claws. What are you, a puppet or something?" "Aw, now Ben--" "You silly fool. So it's stay home, or else no Marny, is it? You mean to tell me she had the gall to put it _just like that_? And you're swallowing it, like the world's prize sucker!" He looked up puzzled. "I--I just decided not to go, Ben. Maybe after we're married she'll see things differently, but it just doesn't figure any other way." I snorted. "It figures like a Hollywood production. Straight down the line. Get the brains to working, Bart! Do you really think she's going to marry you and let you go? Like so much baloney! What woman wants to be a space-widow? She's not so dumb, Bart. She's playing for keeps, and she isn't even subtle about it." "But what am I going to do? I'm in love with her, Ben." "Do you think she loves you?" "I--I'm sure of it." "But she won't even try to understand your side! My god, Bart, can't you see what's happening? She's selfish, Bart. Just plain selfish. She wants you, and she wants you on her own terms. There won't be any compromise. Turn in that resignation, and you're sunk--" Anger lit in his eyes then. "It's not selfishness," he said doggedly.