"I can't think of a better way to spend it," Doak answered. "How about transportation?" "It's only a little over a mile. We can walk." She paused. "Or did you plan to see Senator Arnold?" "I'd rather go swimming," Doak said. Which they did. In the waters of Lake Memahbin, in the small cove that harbored the entire recreational facilities of Dubbinville. Doak rented some trunks there and they swam out to the raft. There weren't too many adults in the water this afternoon but the kids were everywhere. Noisy splashing running kids--but very few of them ventured out to the big raft. There was a park running the length of the beach and a variety of games--table tennis, horse-shoes, shuffleboard. There was a small group around the table in the grove who seemed to be just sitting. Doak saw the beard and the lady who had quoted the unknown poet, last night. He and Martha lay on their stomachs on the raft, looking back toward the shore. Doak said easily, "That gang in the glade doesn't seem to be having much fun." "Solid citizens," Martha said. "That lady is the principal of the high school and the man with the beard is president of the bank. You couldn't expect them to run and shout, could you?" Doak said nothing. She turned over on her side to look at him. "Any luck with the Senator?" "Not much so far. I'll get him, before Monday, though." She stood up and he felt a stirring in him at the sight of her taut fully-feminine figure. She poised on the edge of the raft and then her tanned body went slanting toward the water. She came up directly beneath him and splashed a handful of water into his face. "Sun worshipper," she mocked. "The trip out do you in?" He made a face at her and she went under. He looked over at the group in the glade. High school principal, custodian of young minds--and a reader. Worse than that, a partner in a publishing venture. Corruption? What kind of mind would it take to believe there was corruption in that group? A Senator Arnold kind of mind. Rebellion, yes. Oh, very definitely rebellion--under the Arnold Law. But how could-- Somebody had his feet and he was being pulled head over toes into the waiting water. He came up spluttering to see Martha laughing at him from the edge of the raft. He started to climb up and she dove off the further side. He went after her. Much laughter and great sport. An excuse to grab her, here and there, to feel the firm, warm smoothness of her, to quicken to the challenge of her body. In the glade the watchers sat, missing nothing. Doak said, "I'm not sure the solid citizens approve of your maidenly frolicking. They seem to be frowning our way." "Studious types," Martha said, "but not necessarily disapproving." Doak was silent, staring at the water. "Bored?" Her voice was light. He looked up. "I've never been less bored. Martha, I...." He shook his head in vexation.