"I won't." She laughed, gayly and happily. "If there's any next time, you'll have to kiss me first." She paused and sobered. "But remember. If you should change your mind, any time you really want to ... to kiss me, come right in. I won't be as silly and nervous and afraid as I was just now. That's a promise. Good night, Clee." "Good night, Brownie." CHAPTER 2 Next morning, Garlock was the last one, by a fraction of a minute, into the Main. "Good morning, all," he said, with a slight smile. "Huh? How come?" James demanded, as all four started toward the dining nook. Garlock's smile widened. "Lola. She brought me a pot of coffee and wouldn't let me out until I drank it." "_Brought?_" "Yeah. They haven't read their room-tapes yet, so they don't know that room-service is practically unlimited." "Why didn't I think of that coffee business a couple of years ago?" "Well, why didn't I think of it myself, ten years ago?" Belle's eyes had been going from one, man to the other. "Just _what_ are you two talking about? If it's anybody's business except your own?" "He is an early-morning grouch," James explained, as they sat down at the table. "Not fit to associate with man or beast--not even his own dog, if he had one--when he first gets up. How come you were smart enough to get the answer so quick, Brownie?" "Oh, the pattern isn't too rare." She shrugged daintily, sweeping the compliment aside. "Especially among men on big jobs who work under tremendous pressure." "Then how about Jim?" Belle asked. "Clee's the Big Brain, not me," James said. "You're a lot Bigger Brain than any of the men Lola's talking about," Belle insisted. "That's true," Lola agreed, "but Jim probably is--must be--an icebox raider. Eats in the middle of the night. Clee probably doesn't. It's a good bet that he doesn't nibble between meals at all. Check, Clee?" "Check. But what has an empty stomach got to do with the case?" "Everything. Nobody knows how. Lots of theories--enzymes, blood sugar, endocrine balance, what have you--but no proof. It isn't always true. However, six or seven hours of empty stomach, in a man who takes his job to bed with him, is very apt to uglify his pre-breakfast disposition." Breakfast over and out in the Main: "But when a man's disposition is ugly all the time, how can you tell the difference?" Belle asked, innocently. "I'll let that pass," Garlock's smile disappeared, "because we've got work to do. Have any of you thought of any improvement on Lola's monogamous society?" No one had. In fact-- "There may be a loop-hole in it," Lola said, thoughtfully. "Did any of you happen to notice whether they know anything about artificial insemination?" "D'you think I'd stand for _that_?" Belle blazed, before Garlock could begin to search his mind. "I'd scratch anybody's eyes out--if you'd thought of that idea as a woman instead of as a near-Ph.D. in anthropology you'd've thrown it into the converter before it even hatched!"