"Oh, don't I?" His wife laughed wildly. Grey hair fell across her forehead in snarled disarray. "Maybe I know more than you think, Doctor Raymond X. Horning! I've read those things you wrote--all that craziness about the other worlds. But I didn't know _why_ you wanted to go there till now." Horning fumbled with the transdimensional registration unit's straps. Unslinging the bulky case, he lowered it to the floor. He dared not trust himself to speak. But Myrtle closed in upon him, clawing at him. "Admit it!" she shrieked. "Go ahead! Tell me to my face you'd rather have that--that slut than me--" Horning wheeled. His hands shook. "Myrtle, I've taken every word from you that I intend to," he said tightly. "Get out of my laboratory! Now! This instant!" Myrtle's nails raked at his eyes. * * * * * Before he could recover from fending off the blow, she had snatched Margaret's picture from his pocket. "I'll show you!" she cried, shrill and strident. "I'll let you see what I think of her, the dirty little tramp!" She spat full in the face of the picture. Horning hit her. She lurched back two tottering steps, tripped, and sprawled on the floor. Horning strode to her, jerked Margaret's photo from her hand, and wiped it clean. He said: "I'm through. Whether you like it or not, I'm filing for divorce tomorrow." His wife dragged herself up to a sitting position, her face a mask of hate and cunning. "Go ahead," she goaded. "Go _right_ ahead, Doctor Raymond X. Horning." Her voice rose, took on new and even more bitter overtones of malice. "But ... just don't blame anyone but yourself for whatever happens to your precious apparatus." Heaving herself to her feet, she stomped out of the laboratory and off up the basement stairs. Fists clenched, Horning watched her go. Then, wearily, he crossed to his ancient desk and dropped down in the chair. As always, Myrtle had won. The first time he left the house she'd be at work here--breaking down the door, smashing his equipment and his dreams. And as for Margaret.... He smoothed her picture. But the features blurred and his eyes began to burn, till at last he pushed the photograph back in his pocket and slumped forward on his arms. How long he lay there he never knew. Later, sometimes, he thought perhaps he'd slept. Then, dimly, he became conscious of a sound ... a humming, persistent vibrance that grew steadily louder. It dawned on him that he'd forgotten to turn off the light-loop's master switch. He got up and started towards the control panel. In the same instant, he glimpsed a shadowy figure, framed in the door-like scaffolding of tubes and metal that formed the gateway to the shining silver plain that lay like a shimmering no-man's land between the parallel worlds. Horning came up short, staring.