"Furthermore," the man said, "there are no cheap lodgings anywhere on Earth. Why should there be? Who would stay in them?" "Who indeed?" Barrent said. "I guess I've had a little too much to drink." "No one drinks any more," the man said. "I don't understand. What sort of a game is this?" "What sort of a game do you _think_ it is?" Barrent asked, falling back on a technique which the Group had recommended. The man stared at him, frowning. "I think I get it," he said. "You must be an Opinioner." "Mmm," Barrent said, noncommittally. "Sure, that's it," the man said. "You're one of those citizens goes around asking people's opinions. For surveys and that sort of thing. Right?" "You've made a very intelligent guess," Barrent said. "Well, I don't suppose it was too hard. Opinioners are always walking around trying to get people's attitudes on things. I would have spotted you right away if you'd been wearing Opinioners' clothing." The man started to frown again. "How come you aren't dressed like an Opinioner?" "I just graduated," Barrent said. "Haven't had a chance to get the clothes." "Oh. Well, you should get the proper wear," the man said sententiously. "How can a citizen tell your status?" "Just a test sampling," Barrent said. "Thank you for your cooperation, sir. Perhaps I'll have a chance to interview you again in the near future." "Any time," the man said. He nodded politely and walked off. Barrent thought about it, and decided that the occupation of Opinioner was perfect for him. It would give him the all-important right to ask questions, to meet people, to find out how Earth lived. He would have to be careful, of course, not to reveal his ignorance. But working with circumspection, he should have a general knowledge of this civilization in a few days. First, he would have to buy Opinioners' clothing. That seemed to be important. The trouble was, he had no money with which to pay for it. The Group had been unable to duplicate Earth money; they couldn't even remember what it looked like. But they had provided him with a means of overcoming even that obstacle. Barrent turned and went into the nearest costumer's. The proprietor was a short man with china-blue eyes and a salesman's ready smile. He welcomed Barrent and asked how he could be of service. "I need Opinioners' clothing," Barrent told him. "I've just graduated." "Of course, sir," the owner said. "And you've come to the right place for it. Most of the smaller stores don't carry the clothing for anything but the more ... ah ... common professions. But here at Jules Wonderson's, we have ready-wears for all of the five hundred and twenty major professions listed in the Civil Status Almanac. I am Jules Wonderson." "A pleasure," Barrent said. "Have you a ready-wear in my size?" "I'm sure I have," Wonderson said. "Would you care for a Regular or a Special?" "A Regular will do nicely."