The Man Who Was Six

By F. L. WALLACE
Illustrated by ASHMAN
There is nothing at all like having a sound mind in a sound body, but Dan Merrol had too much of one—and also too much of the other!
Sorry, darling, said Erica. She yawned, added, I've tried—but I just can't believe you're my husband.
He felt his own yawn slip off his face. What do you mean? What am I doing here then?
Can't you remember? Her laughter tinkled as she pushed him away and sat up. They said you were Dan Merrol at the hospital, but they must have been wrong.
Hospitals don't make that kind of mistake, he said with a certainty he didn't altogether feel.
But I should know, shouldn't I?
Of course, but.... He did some verbal backstepping. It was a bad accident. You've got to expect that I won't be quite the same at first. He sat up. Look at me. Can't you tell who I am? She returned his gaze, then swayed toward him. He decided that she was highly attractive—but surely he ought to have known that long ago.
With a visible effort she leaned away from him. Your left eye does look familiar, she said cautiously. The brown one, I mean.
The brown one?
Your other eye's green, she told him.