"No. I had nothing to do with that. She was killed, yes. Not by me. Kit, if I asked you when Lucy stopped, and ... when I began, could you tell me?" He had often thought about that. "No," he said truthfully. "You're as much my wife as--she was." She clutched at his hand impulsively. Then, when he failed to respond, she withdrew her own hand. "Then--then I _am_ Lucy. If I am Lucy in every way, Lucy never died." "You betrayed me. You stood by while murder was committed. You are guilty of espionage." "Lucy loved you. I am Lucy...." "... Betrayed me...." "For a hundred thousand dollars. For the chance to live a normal life, for the chance to forget Leningrad in the wintertime, watery potato soup, rags for clothing, swaggering commissars, poverty, disease. Do you think I realized I could fall in love with you so completely? If I did, don't you think that would have changed things? I am not Sophia, Kit. I was, but I am not. They made me Lucy. Lucy can't be dead, not if I am she in every way." "What can we do?" "I don't know. I only want to be your wife...." "Well, then tell me," he said bitterly. "Shall I go back to the plant and continue working, knowing all the time that our most closely guarded secret is in Russian hands and that my wife is responsible?" He laughed. "Shall I do that?" "Your secrets never went anywhere." "Shall I ... _what?_" "Your secrets never went anywhere. Charles is dead. I have destroyed all that we took. I am not Russian any longer. American. They made me American. They made me Lucy. I want to go right on being Lucy, your wife." Temple said nothing for a long time. He realized now he could not kill her. But everything else she suggested.... "Tell me," he said. "Tell me, how long have you been Lucy? You've got to tell me that." "How long have we been married?" "You know how long. Three years." Sophia crushed her cigarette out on the rock, wiped perspiration (tears?) from her cheek with the back of her hand. "You have never known anyone but me in your marriage bed, Kit." "You--you're lying." "No. They did what they did on the eve of your marriage. I have been your wife for as long as you have had one." Temple's head whirled. It had been a quick courtship. He had known Lucy only two weeks in those hectic post-graduate days of 1957. But for fourteen brief days, it was Sophia he had known all along. "Sophia, I--" "There is no Sophia, not any more." He had hardly known Lucy, the real Lucy. This girl here was his wife, always had been. Had the first fourteen days with Lucy been anything but a dream? He was sorry Lucy had died--but the Lucy he had thought dead was Sophia, very much alive. He took her in his arms, almost crushing her. He held her that way, kissed her savagely, letting passion of a different sort take the place of murder. _This is my woman_, he thought, and awoke on his white pallet in Nowhere. * * * * * "I am awake," said Temple.