Side by side, they sat in the tattered light of the observation hull. Centauri lay less than one day ahead. It dangled like a full, blush peach, their silhouette its only bruised spot. Rockets hummed. "There's no use asking any more questions Angus. The time for questions is past. This is exams." "That's what I mean, John. Remarks like that. You've gotten to be a man who talks to himself." Hastings sat without moving a muscle. "What did the men tell you?" "Nothing actually." The other made a nasty sound. "No, that's true. I didn't need them. I've seen it for myself this entire trip." "And how do you diagnose it, Doctor?" A whisky bottle gleamed in the light of the creamy sun. "Just like that, he wants it. In two or three words. Where I need books, where Freud took volumes, he wants it in two or three words." "And the doctor doesn't have them," John said. Angus shook his head. "But I do." He poured from the bottle. "She's seeing Charles." Vortler snorted. "You're mistaken." "No, I'm not. I've thought about her a lot these last three months, and I think I know her now." He leaned his head back and shut his eyes. "She's an August woman, Angus. An August woman. One night a warm breeze comes through the door and sweeps a girl into your arms. You say things, and she says things, and you both end up saying 'I do!' Then she wakes up one morning to find she _doesn't_ any more. And another door will open, another breeze carry her off." "Mary's not like that." "I didn't think so in the beginning." "You surprise me, John. I thought you had more faith." "Not any more. With me, it's what I can touch or smell or hear or see. Nothing more." "Then there's never any proof for you. You can't watch her every minute." John raised himself unsteadily, and stitched his finger into the air. "That, my dear Doctor, is where you are wrong." He stood and groped his way into the light of the cabin. Angus followed, trying to see his face. "There is something more to this, John. Let's stop the riddles and say what we mean." The captain spun in sharp, stifled anger. "Shall I tell you, Angus? Shall I let you in on my secret?" The anger detonated. "All right, damn it! You came here for it. I'll give it to you! You know my lightscope? Well, it works. It works fine!" "What has this--?" "Do you know what Johnny-boy has been doing with the blasted thing?" he cried, "I've been using it to play inquirer. I've been using it to spy on my wife." The doctor's jaw dropped. "You have _what_?" "That's right. Night after night, I've come back here. I've set up the god-dammed thing--and I've scanned." "This is incredible!" "Three nights ago I found New York. Two nights ago, I co-ordinated to the Hudson River. Last night I got as far as the third level. Tonight--" his arms swept a circle--"East Lynne." Vortler's hand smashed down. "It's got to stop! There's no reason for this. I won't permit it."