em. They're entitled to their opinions of
me. I've mine of them." He added grimly, "Apparently I think more highly
of them than they do of me!"

Aletha said contritely:

"It must have sounded horrible! But they ... we ... all of us think
better of you than you do of yourself!"

Bordman shrugged.

"You in particular. 'Would you marry someone like me? Great Manitou,
no!'"

"For an excellent reason," said Aletha firmly. "When I get back from
here--_if_ I get back from here--I'm going to marry Bob Running
Antelope. He's nice. I like the idea of marrying him. I want to! But I
look forward not only to happiness but to contentment. To me that's
important. It isn't to you, or to the woman you ought to marry. And I
... well ... I simply don't envy either of you a bit!"

"I see," said Bordman with irony. He didn't. "I wish you all the
contentment you look for." Then he snapped: "But what's this business
about expecting more from me? What spectacular idea do you expect me to
pull out of somebody's hat now? Because I'm frantically vain!"

"I haven't the least idea," said Aletha calmly. "But I think you'll come
up with something we couldn't possibly imagine. And I didn't say it was
because you were vain, but because you are discontented with yourself.
It's born in you! And there you are!"

"If you mean neurotic," snapped Bordman, "you're all wrong. I'm not
neurotic! I'm not. I'm annoyed. I'll get hopelessly behind schedule
because of this mess! But that's all!"

Aletha stood up and shrugged her shoulders ruefully.

"I repeat my apology," she told him, "and leave you the office. But I
also repeat that I think you'll turn up something nobody else
expects--and I've no idea what it will be. But you'll do it now to
prove that I'm wrong about how your mind works."

She went out. Bordman clamped his jaws tightly. He felt that especially
haunting discomfort which comes of suspecting that one has been told
something about himself which may be true.

"Idiotic!" he fumed, all alone. "Me neurotic? Me wanting to prove I'm
the best man here out of vanity?" He made a scornful noise. He sat
impatiently at the desk. "Absurd!" he muttered wrathfully. "Why should I
need to prove to myself I'm capable? What would I do if I felt such a
need, anyhow?"

Scowling, he stared at the wall. It was irritating. It was a nagging
sort of question. What would he do if she were right? If he did need
constantly to prove to himself----

He stiffened