He grinned with a single corner of his mouth. "'He travels the fastest who travels alone.'"
"I understand a great deal now." She held her cup so lightly that he grew aware he was in danger of breaking his. Tendon by tendon, he eased his fingers. "Yes," she said after a moment. "Bruce was always puzzled by you. As I imagine most people are. You don't seem to belong anywhere, to anything or anyone. And yet you do. You belong to a world that foundered in the ocean."
It jarred him. Not given to self-analysis, he had imagined he lived a logical, well adapted round of days.
"Sometime you'll build it again," she said. "Oh, not the physical ship, you've more important things on hand, but a personal world."
And again it was a blow, to be shown himself as alien as a castaway from Mars.
"Please," he said, more roughly than he had intended. "I don't find my personality the most interesting object on earth."
She nodded, as if to herself. The long hair swept her flat high-boned cheeks. "Of course. You wouldn't."
"Perhaps I'd better take you home now," he said, without noticeable enthusiasm. "Are you working tomorrow?"
"Only if I feel like it, my boss told me. I'd planned to, but—Are you in any hurry?"
"Contrariwise." I don't think I would sleep much.