"Do you think that after living with you for two years, I don't know? If
you had wanted a beautiful wife, you'd have married one. Instead, you
chose me. You wanted to be the good-looking one of the family. You're
vain, Fred. Don't try to deny it, because it would be no use. You're
vain. Not that I mind it, but you are."
"Are you feeling all right, Margaret? You sound--overwrought."
"I'm not. I'm being very logical. If I were either ugly or beautiful,
you'd hate me. If I were ugly, people would pity you, and you wouldn't
be able to stand that. And if I were beautiful, they might forget about
you. I'm just plain enough for them to wonder why you ever married
anyone so ordinary. I'm just the kind of person to supply background for
you."
* * * * *
After a moment he said slowly, "I never knew you had ideas like that
about me. They're silly ideas. I married you because I loved you."
"Maybe you did. But _why_ did you love me?"
He said patiently, "Let's not go into that. The fact is, Margaret, that
you're talking nonsense. I don't give a damn whether you're ugly or
beautiful--well, no, that isn't strictly true. I do care--but looks
aren't the most important thing. They have very little to do with the
way I feel about you. I love you for the kind of person you are.
Everything else is secondary."
"Please, Fred, don't lie to me. I want to be the same as before, because
I know that's the way you want me. Isn't there some way to let the
Doctor know what sort of appearance we made? You have--had--a good eye.
Maybe you could describe us--"
"Be reasonable, Margaret. You ought to know that you can't tell anything
from a description." His voice was almost pleading. "Let's leave well
enough alone. I don't care if your features do come out of the pictures
in a physiology textbook--"
"Fred!" she said excitedly. "That's it! Pictures! Remember that stereo
shot we had taken just before we left Mars? It must be somewhere on the
ship--"
"But the ship was crushed, darling. It's a total wreck."
"Not completely. If they could take _us_ out alive, there must have been
some unhurt portions left. Maybe the stereo is still there!"
"Margaret, you're asking the impossible. We don't know where the ship
is. This group the Doctor is with is on a scouting expedition. The wreck
of our ship may have been left far behind. They're not going to retrace
their tracks just to find it."
"But it's the only way ... the only way! There's nothing else--"
She broke down. If she had possessed eyes, she would have wept--but as
it was, she could weep only internally.
They must have taken him away, for there was no answer to her tearless
sobbing. And after a time, she felt suddenly that there was nothing to
cry about. She felt, in fact, gay and cheerful--and the thought struck
her: _The Doctor's given me another drug. He doesn't want me to cry.
Very well, I won't. I'll think of things to make me happy, I'll bubble
over with good spirits--_
Instead, she fell into a dreamless sleep.
* * * * *
When she awoke again, she thought of the conversation with Fred, and the
feeling of desperation returned. _I'll have to tell the Doctor all about
it_, she thought. _I'll have to see what he can do. I know it's asking
an awful lot, but without it, all the rest he has done for me won't
count. Better to be dead than be different from what I was._
But it wasn't necessary to tell the Doctor. Fred had spoken to him
first.
_So Fred admits it's important too. He won't be able to deny any longer
that I judged him correctly._