"No whispering," barked the soprano, shining the light directly in his eyes. "Now, are either of you married?" Marcus sighed; so that was it. Poor Earth was in a bad way when a pudgy unattractive clerk could get a high-salaried job solely because he was male. "Answer me," demanded the high unsteady voice. "Are either of you married? On Earth, I mean." Marcus could see her clearly, now that his eyes had become accustomed to the light. She was young, barely out of her teens. "What kind of question is that? When you're married, you're married. It doesn't matter where you are." On Earth, apparently, it did. "Outers," she exclaimed happily. "I've always hoped I'd find one. They're real men. Now let's see, which one shall I take?" She flashed the light on Wilbur, who squirmed and blinked. "He's younger and will probably last longer," she said critically. "On the other hand, he'll be clumsy and inexperienced." She turned to Marcus. "You need a shave," she said crisply. "Your beard is turning gray. I think I'll take you. Older men are nice." "You can't have me," said Marcus. She was near and he could have taken both the weapon and the light from her. But he couldn't stand, much less walk, and there were other women in the background, all armed probably, watching the girl who seemed to be their leader. "You see, I am married. Wilma wouldn't like it, if I took another wife." "Not even just for the time you're on Earth? It isn't much to ask." She turned the light on herself. "Am I unattractive?" She was not outstandingly beautiful, but since she was dressed as scantily as law allowed and fashion decreed Marcus could see her desirability. "How old are you?" he asked. "Old enough," she said. "In eleven months, I'll be twenty-one." "You're pretty," said Marcus. "If I were fifteen or twenty years younger--and not married--I'd come courting." "But you did," she said in amazement. "Why did you come down a dark street, if you weren't looking for romance?" * * * * * This, it seemed, is what passed for romance on Earth. Men must be outnumbered at least three to one. It tied in with what he had so far observed. "I'm sorry for your trouble," he said. "But you must remember that we're Outers. We're not familiar with your customs. We were merely taking a short cut to our hotel." She gestured in sullen defeat. "I suppose it was a mistake. But why can't I have him, then? He's not married." "He isn't, nor will he be for some time. He has barely turned seventeen. I won't give my permission." "He's your son? Then you are experienced. Are you sure you won't reconsider me--just while you're on Earth? I told you I don't like young men. Maybe that's because my father was an older man." "I'm sure he was," said Marcus. "However that's no reason to find me irresistible." He tried to stand, but his legs were rubbery and he sat down quickly.