What was the use of kidding herself any longer, of trying to live vicariously and hoping that some day she would have a home and a husband? She was thirty now; the phone hadn't rung in the last three years. She might as well spend this evening as she had spent so many others--call up the girls for a bridge game and a little gossip, though heaven knew you always ended up envying the people you were gossiping about. Perhaps she should have joined one of the organizations at the office that did something like that seven nights out of every seven. A bridge game or a benefit for some school or a talk on art. Or she could have joined the Lecture of the Week club, or the YWCA, or any one of the other government-sponsored clubs designed to fill the void in a woman's life. But bridge games and benefits and lectures didn't take the place of a husband and family. She was kidding herself again. She got up and retrieved the battered book, then went over to the mail slot. She hadn't had time to open her mail that morning; most of the time it wasn't worth the effort. Advertisements for book clubs, lecture clubs, how to win at bridge and canasta.... Her fingers sprang the metal tabs on a large envelope and she took out the contents and spread it wide. She gasped. It was a large poster, about a yard square. A man was on it, straddling a tiny city and a small panorama of farms and forests at his feet. He was a handsome specimen, with wavy blond hair and blue eyes and a curly mat on his bare chest that was just enough to be attractive without being apelike. He held an axe in his hands and was eyeing her with a clearly inviting look of brazen self-confidence. _It was definitely a privacy violator and she should notify the authorities immediately!_ Bright lettering at the top of the poster shrieked: "Come to the Colonies, the Planets of Romance!" _Whoever had mailed it should be arrested and imprisoned! Preying on...._ The smaller print at the bottom was mostly full of facts and figures. The need for women out on the colony planets, the percentage of men to women--a startling disproportion--the comfortable cities that weren't nearly as primitive as people had imagined, and the recently reduced qualifications. She caught herself admiring the man on the poster. Naturally, it was an artist's conception, but even so.... And the cities were far in advance of the frontier settlements, where you had to battle disease and dirty savages. It was all a dream. She had never done anything like this and she wouldn't think of doing it now. And had any of her friends seen the poster? Of course, they probably wouldn't tell her even if they had. _But the poster was a violation of privacy. Whoever had sent it had taken advantage of information that was none of their business. It was up to her to notify the authorities!_ * * * * * She took another look at the poster.