ve thousand credits and
wouldn't you like to sign up for another term?"

Ha!

So they give you your ticket back to Earth. You're on the transport at
last, and who can blame you if you act just a little crazy and eat like
a pig and take baths three times a day and lie around your stateroom and
just dream about getting home and waking up in your own room in the
morning and getting a good cup of real coffee at the corner fountain and
kissing some handsome young fellow on the library steps when the Moon is
full behind the bell tower?

"And will the young fellow like you?" she asked herself, knowing the
answer even as she asked the question.

She whirled about in the middle of the stateroom, her robe swirling
around her, and ended with a deep curtsy to the full-length mirror.

"Allow me to introduce myself," she murmured. "Lenore Smithson, formerly
of the Government Education Service, just back from business out on the
Rim. What? Why, of course you may have this dance. Your name? Mr.
Fairheart! Of the billionaire Fairhearts?" She waltzed with herself a
moment. Halting before the mirror again, she surveyed herself
critically.

"Well," she said aloud, "the five years didn't completely ruin you,
after all. Your nose still turns up and your cheeks still dimple when
you smile. You have a nice tan and your hair's grown long again.
Concentrated food hasn't hurt your figure, either." She turned this way
and that before the mirror to observe herself.

Then suddenly she gave a little gasp of surprise and fright, for a
cascade of laughter had flooded soundlessly inside her head.

* * * * *

She stood frozen before the mirror while the laughter continued. Then
she slowly swung around. It ceased abruptly. She looked around the
compartment, staring accusingly at each article of furniture in turn;
then quickly spun around to look behind her, meeting her own startled
gaze in the mirror.

Opening the door slowly, she ventured to thrust her head out into the
corridor. It was deserted, the long rows of doors all closed during the
afternoon rest period. As she stood there, a steward came along the
corridor with a tray of glasses, nodded to her, and passed on out of
sight. She turned back into the room and stood there, leaning against
the door, listening.

Suddenly the laughter came again, bursting out as though it had been
suppressed and could be held back no longer. Clear, merry, ringing and
comple