Long grunted. "No dice. They'll have every political scientist in the country under scrutiny for years."
"This is the chair of anthropology," she said. "We can change your name, and after this first excitement of your disappearance dies down—"
"But I don't want it to die down!" he objected.
"I thought we settled that. You've got to stay alive to talk to important people. Tom and I will round them up secretly, and you can present your case to them. My brother is the senior Senator, you know, and he's been itching to bolt the Humanist Party for the last two terms."
"What can I accomplish in secret conferences? The people are the ones who must be aroused."
"I know, I know, from a soapbox in Times Square, I suppose. Darling, you can't accomplish this alone. They've proved they are willing to take the chance of killing you, so they must be stronger than you think. Your facts must come to the attention of the right people. Over a period of time we can organize a truly effective underground."
"Toppinhout is a girls' college."
"So?"
"I've never taught anthropology before."
"You've never been married before, either," she pointed out, "but I predict you'll be a success at both."