She was still there, hunched up in one of the chairs like a small child somebody had left in an interplanet waiting room and then gone away and forgotten. Tony frowned once more. Damn that dame, she was spoiling his nights. He got up, crossed the office on silent feet, opened the door of Executions, went down a bare, silent hall. At the levelators he waited a moment for the platform, took it down, got off again at _Portal Waiting_, and crossed to the foyer. She was there, just as she'd been on the screen upstairs, only clearer, more vivid, something witnessed instead of second hand, something with dimension to it. She was in a big chair that could have accommodated two like her. She had her legs tucked under her and her brown eyes that looked up at Tony's approach weren't any larger than two full moons. He said, "Are you Mrs. John Haley?" The girl nodded. "They--they've got Johnny...." "I know." Tony dropped into a chair opposite the girl. "It's late," he said softly. "You shouldn't be here this time of night, Mrs. Haley." The girl thought about that. "You're Mr. Radek, aren't you? In the Execution Office?" "Call me Tony, Mrs. Haley." "All right, Tony. Yes, it's late. I hadn't noticed, but I suppose you're right." "You should go home, Mrs. Haley." He stopped, then lied a little. "They'll let you know. You don't have to worry." _You don't have to worry. They're bringing the guy up now, little girl, but you don't have to worry. Old hell-hips is getting a ritual rose now, little girl, but you don't have to worry._ As if he'd deliberately telepathed the thought, the girl said suddenly: "Tony, is--is it true about the furious roses? I mean, if a man is found guilty, do they--?" "The 'furious' roses, Mrs. Haley?" He smiled. "I see. You mean because they're so red. Yes, it's true. Ritual roses, we call them, but that's nothing. Nothing at all. A custom only. A symbol handed down. It means nothing." "I know." The girl nodded again. "When we were children, we always called them the furious roses because they were a furious red. We always used to say that if an innocent man was executed, the furious red rose would right away turn white, Tony. To show they'd been wrong about him." He shrugged. "Bedtime stories, Mrs. Haley." "Not--not that it means anything to me, Tony. They'll find Johnny innocent, of course. All three machines. The final machines." _Innocent? Oh, sure._ "A man," said Tony with a vague motion of his hands. "What's the difference what man a woman has? In the morning there's always another--and another name. What's the difference?" He smiled a small toy smile with eyes half closed so the girl couldn't look too closely into them. But it was all right, she hadn't heard. At least she wasn't balling those big eyes of hers at him. She was looking down into her folded hands.