Then Alice added, "And even if it weren't for the hundred per, he isn't
the kind to kill himself."
Andrews grunted, "No, he isn't. But Alice, I'm not at all sure that
Norton knows whether he's doing the right thing or not."
She shook her head. There was no answer to that argument. Furthermore,
it was the kind of unresolvable argument that could go on and on until
the answer was supplied from the outside. There could be no end to it
until they were either picked up safely or died in lonely space.
She decided to drop the discussion as pointless, so headed for the
bathroom. A hot shower and a quick tubbing of her underclothing were
on her mind. Her garments, of course, would dry instantly. She had
to smile a little. To think that a hundred years ago women thought
something they called nylon was wonderful because it was fairly
quick-drying! Not instantaneous, of course, as was the material of
which her lingerie was made.
Anyhow, getting it clean now, and having a bath herself would make
her feel better. And she would be better equipped to face the
nerve-gruelling business of just sitting there watching the clock go
around and around, with nothing to do but wait.