beautify the countryside.
But no, I had to go and poke my big bump of curiosity into the problem.
So here I was, resentful as all hell because I was denied the pleasure
of living in the strong body of a Mekstrom.

It was not fair. Although Life itself is seldom fair, it seemed to me
that Life was less fair to me than to others.

And then to compound my feelings of persecution, I woke up once about
three in the morning with a strong urge to take a perceptive dig down
below. I should have resisted it, but of course, no one has ever been
able to resist the urge of his sense of perception.

Down in the living room, Catherine was crying on Phillip Harrison's
shoulder. He held her gently with one arm around her slender waist and
he was stroking her hair softly with his other hand. I couldn't begin to
dig what was being said, but the tableau was unmistakable.

She leaned back and looked at him as he said something. Her head moved
in a 'No' motion as she took a deep breath for another bawl. She buried
her face in his neck and sobbed. Phillip held her close for a moment and
then loosed one hand to find a handkerchief for her. He wiped her eyes
gently and talked to her until she shook her head in a visible effort to
shake away both the tears and the unhappy thoughts.

Eventually he lit two cigarettes and handed one to her. Side by side
they walked to the divan and sat down close together. Catherine leaned
against him gently and he put his arm over her shoulders and hugged her
to him. She relaxed, looking unhappy, but obviously taking comfort in
the strength and physical presence of him.

It was a hell of a thing to dig in my mental condition. I drifted off to
a sleep filled with unhappy dreams while they were still downstairs.
Frankly, I forced myself into fitful sleep because I did not want to
stay awake to follow them.

As bad as the nightmare quality of my dreams were, they were better for
me than the probable reality.

* * * * *

Oh, I'd been infernally brilliant when I uncovered the first secret of
the Highways in Hiding. I found out that I did not know one-tenth of the
truth. They had a network of Highways that would make the Department of
Roads and Highways look like a backwood, second-rate, political
organization.

I'd believed, for instance, that the Highways were spotted only along
main arteries to and from their Way Stations. The truth was that they
had a complete system from