He was far from an attractive young man, I thought. No longer behind the shabby porter's uniform he had worn on the platform of the station, he still had an unkempt and slipshod appearance, despite the heavy silken dressing gown he wore and the manifest costliness of his room. The beard was still on his face; it, at least, had not been a disguise. It was not an attractive beard. It had been weeks, at the least, since any hand had trimmed it to shape and his hair was just as shaggy. Zorchi was not impressed with my friendly words. When I had finished, he said coldly, "I have had claims against the Company before, Weels. Why is it that this time you make speeches at me?" I said carefully, "Well, you must admit you are a rather unusual case." "Case?" He frowned fiercely. "I am no case, Weels. I am Zorchi, if you please." "Of course, of course. I only mean to say that--" "That I am a statistic, eh?" He bobbed his head. "Surely. I comprehend. But I am not a statistic, you see. Or, at best, I am a statistic which will not fit into your electronic machines, am I not?" I admitted, "As I say, you are a rather unusual ca--a rather unusual person, Mr. Zorchi." He grinned coldly. "Good. We are agreed. Now that we have come to that understanding, are we finished with this interview?" I coughed. "Mr. Zorchi, I'll be frank with you." He snorted, but I went on, "According to your records, this claim need not be paid. You see, you already have been paid for total disability, both a lump sum and a continuing settlement. There is no possibility of two claims for the loss of your legs, you must realize." He looked at me with a touch of amusement. "I must?" he asked. "It is odd. I have discussed this, you understand, with many attorneys. The premiums were paid, were they not? The language of the policy is clear, is it not? My legs--would you like to observe the stumps yourself?" * * * * * He flung the silken covers off. I averted my eyes from the white-bandaged lower half of his torso, hairy and scrawny and horribly _less_ than a man's legs should be. I said desperately, "Perhaps I spoke too freely. I do not mean, Mr. Zorchi, that we will not pay your claim. The Company _always_ lives up to the letter of its contracts." He covered himself casually. "Very well. Give the check to my secretary, please. Are you concluded?" "Not quite." I swallowed. I plunged right in. "Mr. Zorchi, what the hell are you up to? How do you do it? There isn't any fraud, I admit it. You really lost your legs--more than once. You grew new ones. But how? Don't you realize how important this is? If you can do it, why not others? If you are in some way pecu--that is, if the structure of your body is in some way different from that of others, won't you help us find out how so that we can learn from it? It isn't necessary for you to live as you do, you know."