"There might be some slight tendency. Also, since my basic assumption can't be justified, the whole thing may be fallacious. So I'm not going to publish it." He glanced at the chart and it vanished.
"Clee!" Belle stared, almost goggle-eyed. "With your name? The tremendous splash ... I see. You're really grown up."
"Not all the way, probably; but pretty nearly—I hope."
"But some of the ... not exactly corollaries, but...." Belle's face, which had regained some of its color, began again to pale.
"Which one of the many?"
"The most shattering one, to me, concerns intelligence. If it is true that our vaunted mentality is only that of one blood cell compared to that of a whole brain ... and that intelligence is banked, level upon level ... well, it's simply mind-wrecking. I've been trying madly not to think of that concept, at all, but I can't put it off much longer."
"Now's as good a time as any. I'll hold your hand."
"You'd better hold more of me than that, I think."
"I'll do even that, in a good cause." He put his arms around her; held her close. "Go ahead. Face it. All the way down and all the way up. You've got what it takes. You'll come back sane and it'll never bother you again."
She closed her eyes, put her head on his shoulder. Her every muscle went tense.