Simon plunged from zenith to nadir in seconds. He would never spend those three weeks with Jane-Marie. He would be running again, running until he could board the tubeways in anonymity from the basement of a Marriage Building in some other city. But it had never happened so quickly before.
"Can't it wait for three weeks?" he asked, knowing the request was futile.
"Then it's hardly a safeguard for me, just for—for the next one. It's just lately that all those misfits have started.... I guess some people will never be satisfied."
Her hand touched his hand in darkness. There were finger movements. She began to chant meaningless syllables.
This was it, Simon knew in despair. He could not respond. It was a simple thing, but people were sworn to absolute secrecy. It was changed every few months and he had never been able to learn it.
A sob escaped Jane-Marie's lips. "Simon," she gasped. "Simon, you aren't ... you're not doing...."
"No," he said wearily. He sat up quickly in the darkness, and dressed. He could hear her reaching for the phone. He stood up and went to her, but she turned away.
"Don't you touch me. Go away, leave me alone. Of all the despicable ... and I thought ... I almost.... Hello, police? This is Mrs. Jane-Marie Paige on Maple Lane. I want to report...."
