Although he made her another and decorated it with bottle caps in the hope that since historians claimed dress began as decoration she too would see the light. It was too late to change her original dislike, even though he paraded around in it and pretended to be very proud of himself. It was war after that. She smiled knowingly when he told her bugs would bite her if she didn't wear it or that a great ship would come out of the sky and take her away. The dress was off as much as it was on. Normally she would accept whatever he said, but not when it had to do with the dress. She didn't like it. It made her itch and sweat. It was her enemy. And when he allied with it he was too. She was a beautiful animal when she was angry. Now he was in a haste for the sixth month to come. For as he often told her: "I've loused you up and you've loused me up enough as it is." At sleeping time, his dreams of beautifully gowned women leaning over the piano and beckoning, bending in velvet curves to refill his glass, dancing up to him with their arms outstretched, standard spacemen's dreams, no longer gave him pleasure because he could never be sure when they disrobed in their softly lit apartments that they might not turn revealed, the nameless girl. When the afternoon was cold, she would creep beneath his blanket and, because he couldn't bear her shocked expression when he shoved her out, he would turn his face to the wall and review navigation problems. It was true, the way the farm was going, he'd probably end back with the space bums never knowing which vector series was correct. * * * * * When the seventh month passed, he began to worry. The _Doric_ couldn't go much longer without supplies. If they'd hit it rich, they'd still have to send the ship back, they would have to add water on his planet; then they would take the girl to Earth and he could breathe again. Now when she ran suddenly and threw her arms about him, it was quite plain she was not motivated by childish affection. He began to take long walks, to try hiding from her, for she pestered him continually. He would run away until his lungs were bursting and hear a little chirp and she would be peering around a tree, without her dress of course. "You're like a deer through the woods," he'd laugh, for she would smile so prettily that all the anger drained out of him. Then she would crawl forward pretending she was stalking a mouse and he would jump up and start walking again. She learned nothing these days, in fact he thought she was less capable than a month ago. She helped him gather seeds as usual and then, when he sent her to feed the chickens, he discovered she was chewing the seeds herself, although he fed her whenever she patted her stomach. One morning his favorite young rooster was gone, but he found its feet on top of the empty freezers and the woods were adrift with feathers.