He climbed the stairs quietly, avoiding the fifth, which squeaked. In the bathroom, he studied his stubbled face as though it were the face of a stranger. Then he went into the bedroom and rumpled the bed clothes. She'd never believe he slept in the study; she'd never believe he'd been to Venus. For a moment he stood there, looking at the rumpled bed. Then he went quietly through the dressing room and into her room. She lay partially on her back, partially on her left side, her dark hair like ink against the clean white pillow, one slender tanned arm flung along the pillow's upper edge, her other arm bent, her cheek resting against the back of that hand. There was just the breath of a smile on her full lips. What did she dream of, his Ann? Of porridge and pottery and poinsettias? Of schedules, menus, rotary floor waxers and blight elimination? Or didn't she dream, at all? Wasn't there, somewhere, a dream they could share? Her eyes opened, and she said, "Good morning. Just getting in?" He shook his head. "I slept in the study. I rumpled the bed clothes in my room, but I really slept in the study." "And why did you rumple the bed clothes?" She was awake and aware; it was one of her many attributes that she was bright from the opening of her eyes in the morning. He said carefully, "I rumpled the bed clothes because I didn't think you'd believe I slept in the study. I thought you'd think I was out chasing blondes, or something." She smiled, studying him, saying nothing. "How were the Blairs? And how was Henri?" "The Blairs are more fun when you're along. Henri tried to kiss me." Her eyes awaited a reaction to that last. "I'd try to kiss you, too, if I were Henri. Didn't you want him to?" She frowned. "I--didn't. I don't--think I did. We have so many common interests and he _is_ handsome. I must be sub-human." "Maybe you're in love with me. The common interests would be flowers, food and interior decoration. If I were a girl, I wouldn't want to be kissed by a man who gave his life to that." "Don't be superior. Henri's a man of many conquests, as any of my friends will admit when they're drunk. Ted, I don't usually like this kind of talk. Why am I talking like this?" "Maybe you dreamed of Henri." "Oh, Ted--" She slid her feet out, and sat up on the edge of the bed. "Do you think--with us, it was just--animal attraction?" "It could have been. You were, and are, an attractive animal. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Some of the soundest marriages are founded on it." "And maintained?" "Founded and maintained. With a minor compromise, here and there. But no major ones. When are you going to see Henri again?" "For lunch, here. And you'd better be home, Theodore Truesdale. I don't want to be one of those--those, well, one of them." "I'll be here, glowering. I suppose, with the super gourmet as guest, you'll be working on the lunch all morning." She shook her head. "I'm giving him hamburgers. It's a sort of test."