Distractedly yours, Tgos Liznig "I'll handle this myself," Stet said crisply. "I'll tell the consul to advise the Terran State Department that this man should be deported as an undesirable alien. That'll solve the problem neatly. We can't have this contaminating the pure stream of Terrestrial literature with—" "But aren't you going to explain to them that he's perfectly sane?" Tarb gasped. "No need to bother. He'll be grateful enough to get off the planet. Besides, how do I know he is perfectly sane?" "Stet Zarnon, you're perfectly horrid!" "And you, Tarb Morfatch, are disgustingly drunk. Now you go right home and sleep it off. I know I was too harsh with you—my fault for letting you go out alone with Griblo in the first place when you've been here only a few months. Might have known those Terran journalists would lead you astray. Nice fellows, but irresponsible." He flicked out his tongue. "There, I've apologized. Now will you go home?" "Home!" Tarb shrieked. "Home when there's work to be done and—" "—and you're not going to be the one to do it. Tarb," he said, attempting to seize her foot, which she pulled away, "I was going to tell you tomorrow, but you might as well know tonight. I've taken you off the column for good. I have a better job for you." She looked at him. "A better job? Are you being sarcastic? What as?" "As my wife." He got up and came over to her. She stood still, almost stunned. "That solves the whole problem tidily. An office is no place for you, darling—you're really a simple home-girl at heart. Newspaper work is too strenuous for you; it upsets you and makes you nervous and irritable. I want you to stay home and take care of our house and hatch our eggs—unostentatiously, of course." "Why, you—" she spluttered. He put his foot over her mouth. "Don't give me your answer now. You're in no condition to think. Tell me tomorrow." It rained all night and continued on into the morning. Tarb's head ached, but she had to make an appearance at the office. First she vizzed an acquaintance she had made the day before; then she took her umbrella and set forth. As she kicked open the door to the newsroom, all sound ceased. Voices