She was looking at me with wonder now, studying me. "Hot?" she asked. "Hot--?" "Stolen--you know what I mean." "Stolen? Jean, you didn't mean to accuse me of that." Skepticism was ugly on her lovely face. "Fred, what's your angle? You step out of the darkness like some man from Mars in a strange suit, with no money, but a diamond that must be worth--" "We'll learn what it's worth," I said. "Mars isn't inhabited, Jean. Don't you trust me? Have I done anything to cause you to distrust me?" "Nothing," she said. "Do you distrust all men, Jean?" "No. Just the ones I've met. Oh, baby, and I thought you were a farmer." She was crushing out her cigarette. "You haven't a place to stay, but I've got a guest house, and you'll stay there, tonight. You aren't stepping back into the darkness, tonight, Fred Werig. You, I want to know about." The words held a threat, but not her meaning, I was sure. And what better way to orient myself than in the home of a friend? * * * * * That was some home she had. Massive, in an architecture I'd assumed was confined to the south-eastern United States. Two-story place, with huge, two-story pillars and a house-wide front porch, the great lawn studded with giant trees. And she lived there alone, excepting for the servants. She was no huddler, and I told her that. "Dad owned a lot of property in this town," she said. "He was a great believer in the future of this town." At the time I didn't understand what that had to do with her lack of huddling. The guest house was small, but very comfortable, a place of three bedrooms and two baths and a square living room with a natural stone fireplace. I had my first night of sleep on this planet, and slept very well. I woke to a cloudy morning, and the sound of someone knocking on the front door. It was a servant, and she said, "Miss Decker sent me to inform you that breakfast will be ready any time you want it, sir. We are eating inside, this morning, because of the cold." "I'll be there, soon, thank you," I said, and she went away. Showering, I was thinking of Akers for some reason and his directed theory and what was that other theory he'd had? Oh, yes, the twin planets. Senile, he was, by that time and not much listened to, but a mind like that? And who had he been associated with at that time? It was before my birth, but I'd read about it, long ago. The Visitor, Akers had called this man. The Earth man who had come to Venus. And what had his name been? Beer--? Beers--? No, but like that--and it came. Ambrose Bierce. Jean wore a light green robe, for breakfast, and it was difficult for me to take my eyes away from her. "I'm not usually this informal at mixed breakfasts," she told me, smiling, "but I thought it might warm up enough for a swim a little later."