to ask. Well,
to get on with it, you know how historians are always _naming_ periods,
and groups, and whatever. The Age of Darkness, you remember, then the
Age of Awakening, the Age of Enlightenment, the Age of Reason, et
cetera? As it turns out, you've come down to us as the Age of Verbiage.
Amusing, eh? No? Well, you can't please everybody. I thought it was
cute. But in answer to your question I'll have to say no, I'm just a
tourist. I'm on vacation. Nothing more sensational than that, I'm
afraid."

"And naturally you took your wife with you," Victor added.

* * * * *

Donald looked down at his plate for just a moment or two, then answered
"naturally," without raising his eyes at all.

"Somehow, Mr. Fairfield," Victor said, "somehow I get the feeling you're
holding out on me, you're not telling me all."

"Damn it, the more I tell you the less you believe. I never should have
told you the truth at all. I should have just said my wife's suffering
from amnesia and let it go at that."

"I'm not an engineer either," Victor answered. "I can't just twist a
screw and restore the proper functioning of the memory mechanism. I've
got to know the whole truth, Mr. Fairfield, the whole truth."

"How come my wife is Mimi and I'm Mr. Fairfield?"

"I'm sorry," Victor stammered, "I--"

"Donald, you're embarrassing him," Mimi interrupted.

"Just joshing, pulling your toe, or leg, or some such," Donald assured
him. "We might as well be friends, at least. Make it Donald too. I might
even take your autograph back with me. I think the fights are on
television. Want to watch?"

"I'll just do up the dishes, dear," Mimi said.

"I'm afraid I don't care much for the prize fights," Victor said.

"Just sit where you are then, and relax. I'm going to watch them. Won't
see many more of them before we go," he said, throwing a lowering glance
at his wife as he left the room. He returned in a few moments, however,
before the two of them had had time to begin a conversation, and
addressed Victor, "Sorry to interfere, promise I won't interrupt again.
I'm sure you two are making just miles of progress and I dislike the
role of an impedance, but a phrase just popped into my head and I'm sure
I won't be able to concentrate on the fights properly until it's
resolved. I wonder, Dr. Quink, if you could possibly tell me if this is
the age that is so fond of saying that idiots walk with God? You know
what I mean, t