"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.
"Of course—a replacement. I told you it was a serious accident. They had to use whatever was handy."
"I suppose so—but shouldn't they have tried to stick to the original color scheme?"