"Benj! Oh no!"
"I haven't been here before. He's my ... my—"
"I know," said Tinker softly, putting a hand on his. "But no one would dream of masquerading as anyone else. That's unspeakable!"
"It's ghastly! The idea is beyond revolting. But, Tinker, Benj Blair is revolting—or worse. We hate each other—"
"I know." Tinker shuddered and made a face that might have resulted from tasting something brackish and foul. "Ugh! I'm sorry, Cal."
"I'm raving mad! That dupe!"
"Cal—never say that word again. Not about your twin brother."
"Look, my neuropsychiatristic female, I'm as stable as any twin could be. Dwelling on the subject of duplication is something I won't do. But the foul, rotten trick. What was he after, Tink?"
"Nothing, apparently. Just up to deviltry."
"Deviltry is fun. He was up to something foul. Imagine anyone trying to take another's identity. That's almost as bad as persona duplication."