Patricia Kennebec peered out of the window at the screech of brakes on the pavement. Then, to avert open hostility, she ran to the door and out upon the sidewalk.
She faced them, and was slightly baffled to hear them speak:
"Well?" asked Lane.
"You didn't beat me."
"It was a dead heat," smiled Lane.
"We're two minds with but a single thought, these days," Stellor told Patricia. "Every time I find myself thinking of something, I discover that he has been considering the same thing, too."
"You'd better split your personality—and/or your body," suggested Lane. "Or become twins. I can foresee difficulties with the theological and civil authorities if this goes on."
Patricia smiled. "I can't possibly marry you both. Not at the same time, anyway."
"Toss coin?" offered Lane. "We'll take turns—"
"You will not!" stated Patricia. "I'm old-fashioned enough to go into it wanting permanency. I don't really expect it, but I can and will hope. I will not enter marriage with any split in mind. That's ... that's—"