Hendley was caught unprepared. In his relief he had begun to relax into overconfidence. Now, stunned, he felt the blood draining from his face--a sure betrayal of his emotions. "Her?" he questioned automatically. "I--I don't understand." But his thoughts darted this way and that in his skull like trapped particles. The guard at the museum, he thought. But there had been no careful search for Hendley there. She _must_ have escaped. How did the Investigator know about her? Was it a trick? Was he only guessing? Had Hendley then given himself away, letting his reaction to a simple ruse betray him? "You needn't bother to pretend," the Investigator said. His expression remained kindly, sympathetic, warmly understanding. In spite of his predicament Hendley felt drawn to the man. But that was the idea, he caught himself. Gain the confidence of the adult as you did of the child. Make him feel helpless in the face of superior knowledge, superior skills, superior forces. Helpless--but with nothing to fear. "It's generally a woman," the Investigator went on. "You shouldn't feel that you're the only one who's been tempted. There are certain women"--he spread his hands in a gesture that said: We are both men of understanding. We know about these things. There is nothing to conceal from each other--"usually 5-Daywomen who have lost sight of the true goal, who think only of today's physical pleasure. Often we can help them--when we find them. Such women are generally young and quite attractive, even beautiful. Beauty in a way is their undoing. They are unable to see beyond it." He coughed apologetically. "Just as men are sometimes unable to see beyond it. It's easy for them to make a man forget _his_ goal." But Hendley was no longer listening. Beautiful, he thought, remembering how ABC-331 had seemed to protest when he tried to tell her how beautiful she was. What had she said? "It's what I'm supposed to be." Almost bitterly, her soft lips twisting wryly. What had she meant? Was she one of those women the Investigator referred to? No! That, too, was a trick to make him talk. "There was nothing like that," he said firmly. "There was no woman. I'm already Assigned." "And you're perfectly happy with your Assigned?" the older man shot at him quickly. "Of course." The Investigator frowned. Disappointment and disapproval were clearly reflected in his gaze. "I'm trying to help you, TRH-247," he said slowly. "But you must cooperate. What you have done is a grave infraction of the rules of order of the Organization. You must know that. I had hoped you'd be frank with me, as I have been with you. Together we might find some way of lessening the penalty. But--" "Would the penalty be less if there had been a woman? Is that what you mean?" There was a slight stiffening of the Investigator's handsome features, hardly visible to the eye, yet subtly altering his friendly aspect into something sterner, colder. "You choose not to talk?"