"I've spent so much time in space that I got into the habit of playing alone. Many spacemen do that."
She bit her painted lip. "Sometimes—sometimes when you're alone in your room, I hear your voice. Why do you talk to yourself?"
It was an effort for him to meet the beautiful, blank blue eyes. "When you're alone a lot of the time, sweetheart, you have to hear the sound of a voice even if it's your own, or you start hearing voices."
"But you have me," she said. "You're not alone. But you still do it."
"Old habits are hard to break, dear."
She looked up at him, trying to force her way past the wall in his eyes. God help her, he thought, if she ever succeeds. "Would you like me to learn to play chess?"
"Would you like to?"
"I—don't know," she murmured doubtfully. "I've never been much good at mind things. But I want to be everything to you."
"You are, sweetheart." He stooped and kissed her. "Don't force yourself to do anything you don't want to for my sake. I'm used to playing alone."
"But I want you to do things with me!"