"I know you don't," Moera said. "If it were up to me, I'd take you into the organization. But it's not my choice.... Will, are you sure you're a murderer?"
"I believe I am," Barrent said. "I probably am."
"Too bad," Moera said. "Still, the organization needs high-survival types, no matter what they did on Earth. I can't promise anything, but I'll see what I can do. It would help if you could find out more about why you committed murder. Perhaps there were extenuating circumstances."
"Perhaps," Barrent said doubtfully. "I'll try to find out."
That evening, just before he went to sleep, Moera opened the adjoining door and came into his room. Slim and warm, she slipped into his bed. When he started to speak, she put a hand over his mouth. And Barrent, who had learned not to question good fortune, kept quiet.
The rest of the vacation passed much too quickly. The subject of the organization did not come up again; but, perhaps as compensation, the adjoining door was not closed. At last, late on the seventh day, Barrent and Moera returned to Tetrahyde.
"When can I see you again?" Barrent asked.
"I'll get in touch with you."
"That's not a very satisfactory arrangement."
"It's the best I can do," Moera said. "I'm sorry, Will. I'll see what I can do about the organization."