"For the same reason that women cry," he countered. "A man swears to keep from crying, a woman cries to keep from swearing. Both are sound psychology. Safety valves—means of blowing off excess pressure that would otherwise blow fuses or burn out tubes."
III.
In the library of the Port Admiral's richly comfortable home, a room as heavily guarded against all forms of intrusion as was his private office, two old but active Lensmen sat and grinned at each other like the two conspirators which in fact they were. One took a squat, red bottle of fayalin from a cabinet and filled two small glasses. The glasses clinked, rim to rim.
"Here's to love!" Haynes gave the toast.
"Ain't it grand!" Surgeon General Lacy responded.
"Down the hatch!" they chanted in unison, and action followed word.
"You aren't asking if everything stayed on the beam." This from Lacy.
"No need. I had a spy ray on the whole performance."
"You would—you're the type. However, I would have, too, if I had a panel full of them in my office. Well, say it, you old space-hellion!" Lacy grinned again, albeit a trifle wryly.