rose. She said, "Follow me."

She led me to a room whose four walls were lined with books. There was a
wide glass door leading out from this to the patio.

"Dad's old retreat," she said. "Everything from Aristotle to Zola. If
there's something you don't see, don't hesitate to ask. We aim to
please."

She closed the door behind her.

I didn't gorge; I only nibbled. But fed enough to realize this was a
deep, rich culture; this planet had produced some first rate minds and
exceptional talents. But still, with all this to choose from, the people
seemed to prefer Milton Berle. And the people were in command.

I was reading Ambrose Bierce when she came in. She looked at the book,
and at me. "Lunch," she said quietly.

I put the book down, and rose. "The unwelcome guest?"

"I'd tell you, if you were."

"Would you, honestly?"

She didn't answer that. She smiled, and said, "There are some fights at
Ocean Park, tonight."

We saw those, and later, some amateur fights. Strange spectacles they
were, men belaboring each other, but fascinating, too. The amateurs were
less talented, but more friendly, leaving the ring arm in arm, if both
were still conscious. The professionals displayed no such amicability.

Why? I asked Jean. What was the difference between the amateurs and the
professionals?

"Money," she said, and looked at me strangely. "Didn't you really know
that?"

I lied with a nod. "I wanted you to see it, and to word it for
yourself."

"Look," she said with controlled irritation, "if I want any curbstone
philosophy, I can read one of those corny columnists. I certainly don't
have to sit in a screaming mob watching a couple of morons pound each
other bloody to arrive at a stupid generality like that."

"Let's get a hamburger," I said.

She just stood there, on the sidewalk. "You--you--"

People were turning to stare.

"Farmer?" I suggested.

"Oh," she said, "oh, oh--"

"Or a cheeseburger," I added.

There was a small crowd, now, openly watching. One man said, "Hey, this
is better than them jerks inside. Slug him, lady."

Jean started to laugh, and so did I, and then all of us were laughing,
the whole crowd.

We didn't go to a hamburger place. We went to a place where we could
dance, too, and I had a small glass of wine, and wondered why we'd
outgrown alcohol, on our planet.

It was a night I will never forget. It was a night I learned how much
she meant to me. There wasn't ever going to be any