“Oh, no. Those are personal preferences. What I am, not what I think. My likes and dislikes aren’t my thoughts.”
“How can you decide which is you, and which is what you think?”
Blake was silent. It was too much like that old thing that used to puzzle him so at breakfast; the picture of the girl on the box of cornflakes. She held another box of cornflakes on her lap, with a picture on it of a girl holding a box of cornflakes, with a picture of a girl.... Once upon a time he had studied that picture until he was nearly crazy, trying to imagine what happened after the boxes had become so small that he couldn’t see them. He grunted and rolled over with his nose burrowed into the blanket.
“That’s why we bother our heads about little things,” said Gin. “When we try to figure out big ones, we go crazy.”
“Some people do,” Teddy said. “They stop thinking about everything but that one question, What is Truth? Scientists....”
“I know,” she said impatiently. “Arrowsmith stuff. What difference does it all make?” She unrolled her blanket and started to take off her shoes.
“We’re like a legend,” Blake said after a moment. “Three brave people going out into the world. It makes me feel brave to sleep next to a fire. I don’t know why.”
“It is like that,” Gin said eagerly. “Like the Three Musketeers, but there were four Musketeers really, weren’t there? I always forget. Perhaps we’ll pick up a fourth somewhere.”
“I hope not,” said Teddy. “Four would be too many and we’d have trouble.”
“I don’t see why.”