"Faith? Running all over the country like fugitives, financed by those damned diamonds, nosing into this and into that, and then running off to Russia, all alone. _With what you'd learned, Fred?_" I shook my head, resentment stirring in me. "Remember when we met? In Santa Monica--right there, next to the beach. You didn't have a thing but the clothes on your back and a bagful of diamonds. Was it a sub that brought you that far, Fred?" "No," I said, "and you wouldn't believe me if I told you." "Try me, and see," she said. She was rigid, and near hysteria. "All right. I came there in a space sphere from Venus." She started to sob, a wild, lonely sound and I moved forward to take her in my arms. Her fingers clawed my face, her high heel smashed my instep. "Get out," she screamed, "get out, get out, get out--" I got out. I went to the first floor washroom and cleaned up my bloody face, and then went into the bar. This was one habit I'd picked up on the planet. When I came up to the suite, later, I didn't even check to see if she was in the washroom. I flopped down on the davenport and didn't know anything for the next twelve hours. She was gone, when I came to. She'd checked out before I'd come back to the room, the night before. I missed the plane she took from France. I missed her by a day in New York. I went back to the big house with the high pillars on Sunset Boulevard. And she wasn't there. She'd come back to it, I knew. I moved in, to wait. I wasn't going home without her; I wasn't even sure I was going home with her. I was involved, now, in this planet, almost as crazy as the rest of them. I sat. I did some drinking, but mostly I sat, going back over all our days, reading nothing, enjoying nothing, just remembering. The Korean business started and the headlines grew uglier, and the jackals screamed and the people grew more confused. One day, the maid told me I had a visitor. I was in the library and I told her to send him back. When he came in, he closed the door behind him. I'd never seen him, before, but he said, "We've been looking for three weeks." "We?" "Thirty of us," he said. "What happened? Jars sent me." "Oh," I said. "I can't come, now. I'm--married--" He smiled. "If you knew what a mess it's been. We've got men all over the planet. Does your wife--know?" "She thinks I'm crazy," I said. "Look, I--" "I'm not going to argue," he said. "Just make your report, and I'll pick it up, tonight." Five minutes after he was gone, I was packing. I knew he wasn't coming back for any report. He was coming back for _me_, and it didn't much matter to him if I wanted to come, or not. I was coming, or staying here--dead. What I didn't realize is that they wanted me to run, to get out where I could be taken with a minimum of interference.