spangles of garments like the one she wore. She was setting out small boxes, which looked a great deal like boxes of things that women always carry—perfume, cosmetics, and so on.

"No, no, no!" Homer shouted. "You mustn't unpack your bag! C. J. will be here any minute."

"I was here first," said Qalith.

"Listen, Qalith," said Homer, "On your planet there must be certain rules of conduct that may seem outlandish when considered alone, but have very good reason for being when you consider them in the light of other facts."

"Oh yes," said Qalith. "One should always wear a telepathy helmet when he's keeping a secret."

Homer took Qalith by the arm, led her to the divan and sat down beside her. Quickly and pointedly he told her about Fader's Fadeless Formulae and the opportunity that faced him. And he gave her the Facts of life.

"The only drawback is that old skinflint Fader himself," Homer explained. "As I'm fixed now, I have a pleasant job. The dean's nice and easy going. I get along fine and I like my work. Fader will pay me twice as much, but he'll be breathing down my neck every minute, making sure he's making a 90 per cent profit on everything I do."

"You don't know whether to take a job in which you'll be unhappy, but which can give you what you want or to stay on a job where you'll be happy, but poor. Is that it?" Qalith looked at him with a curious expression in her eyes.

"That's it," said Homer.

The front doorbell rang and Homer realized he'd spent more time explaining to Qalith than he should have spent. He jumped to his feet. His arms swept up the boxes and piled them into the bag. He lifted the bag and ran to the kitchen. "Hide, Qalith! Hide quickly! In the bedroom and close the door!" he said.

He thrust the bag in the broom closet off the kitchen.

When he returned he saw Qalith admitting C. J. Fader at the front door.

"Harrumph!" said Mr. Fader. His eyes traveled over Qalith from spangled boots to gleaming tiara.

"Oh, Mr. Fader," said Homer thickly.

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