Funny he should feel disappointed. Sure, he'd been thinking of her all those years, but he'd never expected her to have been thinking of him. Yet he found himself blurting out, "Don't you remember me, Lyddy?" Then he cursed himself; first because he didn't want her to remember him as he had been; second, because he knew every man who'd ever slept with her--or a woman like her--would ask the same question. And, of course, she'd have the standard answer, something like "Why, of course I remember you, honey. I'm just not good at names." But she just looked at him levelly. "No, dear, I'm afraid I don't remember you," she said. Then a tiny frown gathered on her smooth forehead. "Seems to me I would've, though. When did I meet you?" "Oh, years ago! I was just a kid!" She flushed, and he realized he'd been a little tactless. If he was no kid any more, neither would she be. Still, she looked as young as she ever had, and he, he knew, looked younger. He didn't want her to probe further, so he hastily made an appointment with her for an evening later that week. As he left, he could hear her saying, in a bewildered voice, "I could've sworn there was somebody with him when he came in." And he quickened his steps. * * * * * She had the same room--a warm luxurious chamber, high up in the Golden Apple Hotel. Lyddy herself was the same, too, just as he remembered her. Afterward, as they lay together in the blackness, she asked, "Can you see in the dark, Captain?" He was surprised, and then, thinking about it, not so surprised. "Of course not, no more than you can! Whatever made you ask that?" "I--feel like somebody's looking at me." He rolled over on his side, so his body was as far away from hers as possible. He didn't want her to feel the sudden rise of tension in him. _Something's got to be done about this_, he thought. _I can't put up with it now._ "Why don't you say anything, honey?" her anxious voice came out of the darkness. "Will you marry me, Lyddy?" he said. He could hear the intake of her breath. "Ask me again in the morning," she told him wearily. He knew what she must be thinking: Men who hadn't had a woman for a long time sometimes did strange things. In the morning, she would wake up and he would be gone. Only, when morning came, he was still there. Two weeks later, they were married. II Lyddy was curious about her husband-to-be and kept trying to find out all about him. Fortunately, in the code of the Far Planets, a man's past was his own business, so he was able to be evasive without actually lying to her. Not that he had any scruples, about lying; it was simply easier to tell as few stories as possible, rather than worry about keeping them straight. But it was all right to ask about a man's present. "Do you have anybody, Len? Relations, anything like that?" He frowned a little, remembering the boy on Fairhurst. "No," he said, "I have no relatives. I have nobody."