She had me shaking with excitement. "You have a gift?" I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "Just some nights. Since I broke my vow, I've lost most of my prophecy. My real gift is healing. Lost _all_ of that," she concluded, not bitterly. "God is punishing me." Gravel crunched as she came slowly across the roof toward me. The fag end of her cigarette made a spinning arc in the night as she snapped it over the side of the roof. Now there was no way to see her at all. Perception is nice in the dark. I tracked her automatically. "What was the vow you broke?" I said. She sighed, near me. "I divorced my husband, my own darlin' Billy," she said. "There's no divorce in Heaven." "Tough," I said. I thought _I_ was her darlin' Billy. Talk about Double-think! "Will you miss never having a man again? I mean, once you've been a wife--" I added, letting it drift off. "God has been good to me," she said out of the dark. "He let me see my own future, that he would give me a husband again." That was a curve. "Isn't that an even worse breaking of vows?" I said. "I mean, if in God's sight you're still married to Billy Joe?" "Would be," she conceded from the black, now right next to me. "But He told me that the man I should seek _would be_ Billy Joe--hit's a miracle worked for me." Her voice lowered. "A miracle that come to pass tonight, my darlin' Billy." A shiver ran its fingers up my spine. She meant every word of it. I _was_ her darlin' Billy. * * * * * I wasn't in any mood to get married, and least of all to a seeress. Precognition is the least understood of the Psi powers, and the most erratic. But of all people, I could least afford to sneer at the power of Psi. For the first time, I guess, I realized the awful helplessness that comes over the Psiless when a TK invokes his telekinetic power. I wanted no part of the future this corn-fed oracle had conjured up. But it might be the only future I'd ever have. I tried to recall her looks. Thinking about them, they really added up to no more than hysterical sniffles, not enough to eat, and the pathetic evidence that there hadn't been any money for orthodonture. Fatten her up, straighten her teeth and--Talk about _religious_ rationalization! I snapped out of it. Maybe she could call the turn of dice. But I'd be damned if she could call the turn of people. Let her try _me_. I sat up on the parapet, swinging to put my feet on the gravel of the root. "So tonight you found the husband God's been going to give you?" I asked. "Yes," she said softly. "And I'm the one?" "Yes!" "Not that again!" I growled, grabbing her thin shoulders and shaking her. Her glasses bobbled on her nose. "I'm _not_ your darlin' Billy, and you well know it. Admit it!" She closed her lips over her buck teeth and sniffled. "I reckon not," she said, raising her head and looking at me without flinching. "I lied to you." "Why?" "Kind of made me feel more decent about bein' divorced."