He stopped, walked over to the mirror and moved about until he could see me in it.
"Harold K. Jones," he said. "You've got the face I shave every morning, but I've only just recognized you. You're me."
"I prefer to think you are me," I said.
"So you did fail that final pharmacology exam, eh? And I didn't, in my probability. Well, well. I must admit it seemed more probable I would fail at the time, but I passed."
"It was that tramp Kate's fault. She said yes too easily."
He coughed and looked at his fingers. "She said no to me. And, as a matter of fact, after I passed I married her. She's my wife."
"I'm sorry. I meant nothing personal."
"You never married?"
"I never really got over Kate," I said.
"I wonder what would have happened if I had qualified and then not married her."