Dr. Hoyt was striving heroically to stay indignant in spite of the sedative. "And do many ask to have their mates changed?" "I guess we're a sort of record, aren't we?" Mr. Fallon boasted. "I guess you are," agreed Dr. Kalmar. "And now, Dr. Hoyt, if there aren't any more questions, I'd like to proceed with this couple." Dr. Hoyt stretched his eyes wide to keep them open. "It's all screwy to me, but it's none of my business. As soon as I finish my internship, I'm heading back to Earth, where things make sense, so I don't have to understand this mishmash you call a planet. Need help?" "If you'd find out what Mrs. Fallon has in mind this time, it would let me run the patients through a lot faster." "How would they feel about it?" Dr. Hoyt asked. "It's all right with me," Mr. Fallon said amiably. "I'm pretty used to this, you know." "But what are we going to make you look like, Harry?" his wife fretted. "I felt very jealous of other women when you were handsome and I didn't like you just ordinary-looking." "Why not go through the model book with Dr. Hoyt?" suggested Dr. Kalmar. "There are still some types you haven't tried." "There _are_?" she asked in gratified astonishment. "Would you mind very much, Dr. Hoyt?" "Glad to," he said. Miss Dupont brought out the model book for him, and he and Mrs. Fallon studied the facial and physical types that were very explicitly illustrated there in three-dimensional full color. Mr. Fallon, contentedly working out math problems on a sheet of paper, left the choice entirely to her. * * * * * Meanwhile, Dr. Kalmar and Miss Dupont swiftly took care of a succession of other patients, raising the tolerance level of frustration in a watchmaker, replating the acne-pitted skin of a sensitive youth, restoring a finger lost in a machine-shop accident, and building up good-natured aggression in an ore miner whose productivity had slumped. Mrs. Fallon still hadn't decided when the last patient had been taken care of. She said unhappily, "I don't know. I simply absolutely don't know. Couldn't you suggest _something_, Dr. Hoyt?" "Wouldn't be ethical," he told her bluntly. "Not allowed to." Dr. Kalmar, checking the Social Control papers with Miss Dupont, wondered if he should interfere. It would lower confidence in Dr. Hoyt, which meant that people would insist on Dr. Kalmar's treating them. Then, instead of having an assistant to remove some of the load, he'd have to do the work of two men. He decided to let the young doctor handle it. But Dr. Hoyt stood up in exasperation, slammed the book shut, and said, "Mrs. Fallon, if you know what you want, I'll be glad to oblige. But I'm not a telepathy--" "Is there anything I can do?" Dr. Kalmar interrupted quickly, before his assistant could create any more damage. "He doesn't have to get huffy," Mrs. Fallon said indignantly. "All I asked for was a suggestion or two." "Insult my wife, will he?" Mr. Fallon belligerently added.