"Stop slumming, pet. Come back to me. You and I are top-level talent. You've got to work where the work counts. Architectural design? The network's dreaming up a new office building in Cuba. Take a dive at it from the twenty-foot board. Stage design? Come into our set department and rub up our imagination." "You're very kind, Roy." "Not kind. Practical. New talent is our priority headache. We know it's around, but we can't tap it. The slobs outside the network think there's a cabal to keep new talent out. There isn't. We just can't mock up an efficient screening operation to locate it. But once we bark our shins on new talent, we burn incense and work overtime building it up. Let me build you up, pet. Don't waste yourself on the outside." "This is quite a change," Gabby murmured. "When last heard from, the picture you painted of me was a Gibson girl in mink doing public relations for you." "I've graduated since last year," Audibon smiled. "I took a post-graduate in Women's Rights. I'll even go along with your politics.... And think for a minute how much more you can do as the wife of the network veep." "You really are a wonderful salesman," Gabby said with admiration. She came around a corner again. "Why are you so angry with me, Roy?" "Me? Angry?" She nodded and blurted out the truth. "You're furious. That's why I'm frightened. I.... It's a secret I don't have to keep any more. You only called me 'pet' when you hated me. You're hating me now." "No." "You are." Gabby faced him squarely. "Don't you think I remember all your tricks? You smile. You flatter. You call me pet.... And then you pounce. I want to know why. Why are you hunting me now?" "I'm asking you to come back to me," Audibon said in a fury. "Why?" "To save your neck." Audibon whipped out his wallet, opened it and removed Macro's slip of paper. "This was left in my office by a man named Macro. Do you know him?" "I know all about John Macro." She looked at the slip of paper, holding it up to the greenish light of the monitor. "So he's got around to me at last. Did you send him?" "No. I talked him out of it. That's why he left this slip. I saved you, pet. I told Macro you were my wife and he dropped you. I'd like to keep on saving you ... as long as you're my wife." "So you are hunting me." "Listen!" Audibon grabbed her wrist and wrenched her toward him. "Macro can hound you out of work. I can run you off The Rock. How would you like that? Network veep sues for divorce. Communism and adultery. Think how the papers would play it up. Gabby Valentine, the party girl, recruiting new members in her bed. The latest volunteer ... script-writer Jordan Lennox. Oh yes, I know all about your roll in the hay with Lennox. We had a long talk about what a lovely piece you are." "Roy!"