"Sure we do," jeered James, and the sound of his immature near-treble voice made the jeer very close to an insult. "We know all about atomic energy. Was the Manhattan Project called 'furtive' until Hiroshima gave the story away?"
"You're trying to put words in my mouth," objected Tim.
"No, I'm not. I'm merely trying to make you understand something important to everybody. You come in here and claim by the right of personal interest that we should be most willing to tell you our business. Then in the next breath you defend the installation over on the other side of town for their attitude in giving the bum's rush to people who try to ask questions about their business. Go read your Constitution, Mr. Fisher. It says there that I have as much right to defend my home against intruders as the A.E.C. has to defend their home against spies."
"But I'm not intruding."
James nodded his head gently. "Not," he said, "until you make the grave error of equating personal privacy with culpable guilt."
"I didn't mean that."
"You should learn to say what you mean," said James, "instead of trying to pry information out of someone who happens to be fond of you."
"Now see here," said Tim Fisher, "I happen to be fond of her too, you know. Doesn't that give me some rights?"
"Would you expect to know all of her business if she were your wife?"
"Of course."