"Stop it—you're getting near my price. Besides, they wouldn't do you any good. You need a husband to go with 'em. Take the express rocket next month. It's a shorter orbit and you'll only lose two weeks."
"You take it then. My business won't wait. Three thousand."
Coran whistled. "What's your problem?"
"None of your business."
"Have it your own way. My business won't wait either. Now, if you don't mind, I'm in a hurry. I've less than two hours to find a honky-tonk and get myself a bride. I don't suppose you'd know where the nearest dive is. No, you wouldn't."
He turned away toward the elevators, but the girl clutched his arm desperately. "Six thousand.... It's all I have."
Coran stared at her. "I'm sorry for you, but you'd have to kill me to get these away. And I'm hard to kill. I'll make a deal though. I'll sell you half of my double for three thousand. You'd have to marry me, though."
"Marry you!" There was a word of loathing in her tone.
"It's been done. I'm on my way out now to look up a floozy. I'll even marry her, if she's dope enough to want it that way. I don't like the idea any better than you do, but I'd hock grandma's false teeth to get to Venus. Forget I mentioned it. If I'm to be stuck with a dame for four months, it might as well be a flamethrower as an icicle."
He buzzed for the elevator before she called after him. "I—I've changed my mind." She was pale, with a look of suppressed fury about her. "I guess I'd do even that."