"Wait," a voice, a woman's voice, called.

From the entrance of a building a woman in a fur wrap hurried, her high heels striking the pavement and setting up echoes. Jack stopped.

"It didn't go so bad after all," she said, catching up with him, out of breath. "Thank God it's over; you were so tense-- I felt it all evening. Arnie is dreadfully upset by the news about the co-op; they're so rich and powerful, they make him feel so little."

Together, they walked in no particular direction, the girl holding on to his arm.

"And he did say," she said, "that he's going to keep you on as his repairman; I'm positive he means it. He's sore, though, Jack. All the way through him. I know; I can tell."

He tried to remember, but he could not.

"Say something," Doreen begged.

After a bit he said, "He--would make a bad enemy."

"I'm afraid that's so." She glanced up into his face. "Shall we go to my place? Or do you want to stop somewhere and get a drink?"

"Let's just walk," Jack Bohlen said.

"Do you still love me?"

"Of course," he said.

"Are you afraid of Arnie? He may try to get revenge on you, for--he doesn't understand about your father; he thinks that on some level you must have--" She shook her head. "Jack, he will try to get back at you; he does blame you. He's so goddamn primitive."

"Yes," Jack said.

"_Say_ something," Doreen said. "You're just like wood, like you're not alive. Was it so terrible? It wasn't, was it? You seemed to pull yourself together."

With effort he said, "I'm--not afraid of what he'll do."

"Would you leave your wife for me, Jack? You said you loved me. Maybe we could emigrate back to Earth, or something."

Together, they wandered on.