"How true. Those Primes. The women. Honestly, Clee, I never saw--never imagined--such a bunch of exhibitionistic, obstreperous, obnoxious, swell-headed, hussies in my whole life. And every day it was borne in on me more and more that I was--am--exactly like the rest of them." Garlock was wise enough to say nothing, and Belle went on: "I've been talking a good game of licking myself, but this time I'm going to _do_ it." She jumped up and doubled her fists. "If you can do it, I can," she declared. "Like the ancient ballad--'Anything you can do I can do better.'" She tried to be jaunty, but the jauntiness did not ring quite true. "That's an unfortunate quotation, I'm afraid. The trouble is, I haven't." "Huh? Don't be an idiot, Clee. You certainly have--what else do _you_ suppose put me so far down into the dumps?" "In that case, you _certainly_ will. So come on up out of the dumps." "Wilco--and I certainly will. But for a woman who has been talking so big, I feel low in my mind. A good-night kiss, Clee, darling? Just one--and just a little one, at that?" "Sweetheart!" There were more than one, and none of them was little. Eventually, however, the two stood, arms still around each other, in the corridor between their doors. "But kissing's as far as it goes, isn't it," Belle said. The remark was not a question; nor was it quite a statement. "That's right." "So good night, darling." "Good night, ace." * * * And when they next saw each other, at the breakfast table, Belle was apparently her usual dauntless self. "Hi, darling--sit down," she said, gaily. "Your breakfast is on the table. Bacon, eggs, toast, strawberry jam, and a liter of coffee." "Nice! Thanks, ace." They ate in silence for a few minutes; then her hand crept tentatively across the table. He pressed it warmly. "You look a million, Belle. Out of the dumps?" "Pretty much--in most ways. One way, though, I'm in deeper than ever. You see, I know exactly what you did to Fao Talaho; and why neither you or anybody else could do it to me. Or if they could, what would happen if they did." "I was hoping you would. I couldn't very well tell you, before, but...." "Of course not. I see that." "... the fact is that Fao, and all the others we've met, are young enough, unformed enough--plastic enough--yes, damn it, _weak_ enough--to bend. But you are tremendously strong, and twelve Rockwell numbers harder than a diamond. You wouldn't bend. If enough stress could be applied--and that's decidedly questionable--you wouldn't bend. You'd break, and I can't figure it. You're a little older, of course, but not enough to...." "How about the fact that I've been banging myself for eight years against Cleander Garlock, the top Prime of the universe and the hardest? That might have something to do with it, don't you think?"