"_I_ was wrong, Frank. I was trying to mold you into my way of life. I wanted you, but only as a part of my own eager little world. I had money so I furnished my apartment. I put this here and that there, and hung a toothbrush over the sink as necessarily functional, and then I decided I needed a man in the same way and so I picked you. "But I found out that the man in the bed was the most important part of it and without him there wasn't anything. Without him I didn't want any of the other. Now ... I want to be a wife. A wife is a person who goes where her husband goes and lives where he lives and shares what he has. You don't barter and trade--this for that--give up this part to get that. You give up everything and yet it isn't like that at all because you're really getting everything." He took out another cigarette. "Oh, Frank, it's all mixed up and I'm going to cry, I think." "It's not mixed up at all," he said quietly. He turned to look at her, half frowning, half smiling. "Now why in the hell couldn't you have given me a little notice? Twenty minutes to plane time and I've got to get another reservation." "I'm sorry, Frank." "Maybe there isn't a seat." "Wouldn't that be terrible?" "Then we'll have to wait over." "Why don't you go and see?" Five minutes later they were walking down the west tunnel to gate twenty-six. Frank Corson grinned. "Come on, woman, I'm going to take you across state lines for immoral purposes." "How wonderful," she breathed. * * * * * Brent Taber was human and his triumph had been a thing of satisfaction to him--but only momentarily. Now it had a slightly sour taste. Not that he was unhappy. He was content and almost relaxed as he sat in Doctor Entman's patio and worked on a Scotch and soda. "A nice night," Entman said. "Beautiful. Those stars are about ready to fall into our laps." "Menace out there? It seems unthinkable." "Doesn't it?" "The human animal is a strange creature. He's so capable of refusing to believe what he doesn't want to believe." "Maybe he's smarter than we think. Maybe there's no point in looking at a pending disaster from every angle. The what-will-be-will-be attitude isn't necessarily like that of the ostrich which sticks its head in the sand." "Do the people inside really believe?" Entman asked. "It's pretty difficult to tell. Sometimes I wonder what my own real feelings are." "I wasn't completely briefed on how it ended," Entman said delicately. "I think the phony specifications got through." "If they did--if things are really as they appear--" Taber smiled in the darkness. "Are _you_ beginning to doubt, Doctor?"