He scratched his neck thoughtfully. "Why, you wouldn't have to stay on this continent even. You could find a little boat and sail up the coast to Alaska and then cut across to Asia. It's only fifty miles, they say. And then you could go down to China and India and Africa and Europe. Why, a man could go any place in the world alone!" Sandy began to lick his face and the pup released a nervous, eager bark that was more like "Yip! Yip!" than a bark. "That's right, Sandy. I'm not alone, am I? No more than I ever was, really. Never liked to talk to people anyway. You're only two years old, you'll live for ten, maybe twelve years yet, you and the pup. Maybe longer than I will." He rose, frowning. It was strange. There was a grief and a loneliness within him and he knew they would be within him forever. But, too, there was an ever-growing peace and contentment and a satisfaction, and a sense of still belonging to Earth and being a part of it. Strangest of all, he realized that there was no madness in his mind and no seed of madness. He felt like a boy again, about to begin a wondrous journey through unexplored and enchanted lands to discover new marvels. He left the travel office, Sandy and the pup barking and clammering at his heels, and he was singing: "We're happy, so happy, Don't want to reach a star; We're happy, always happy, Just the way we are...."