t made her so valuable to the lab. But it
hadn't been like that. She had played sister, mother, daughter, wife--a
hundred roles to as many other tested applicants. For the first time she
saw one as a human being instead of a sociological specimen. That's the
way it was when she met Mark Jorden.

There was no answer to it, she thought bitterly as she rested her face
against his shoulder. Ashby was right--just a few more hours and it
would all be over. All Jorden's feeling for her as his wife was induced
by the postulates of the test, just as were his feelings for Roddy. His
subjective reactions were real enough, but they would vanish when their
stimulus was removed with the test postulates. He would look upon the
restored Roddy as just another little boy--and upon Bonnie, the Doctor
in Sociology, as just another misemployed female.

She raised her head and dried her eyes as she sensed that the service
was ending. Actually, Ashby was right, of course. They had to go on, and
the sooner it came to an end the better it would be for her. She _would_
submit to alteration of her own personal data after the test, she
thought. She would let them erase all feelings and sentiments she held
for Mark Jorden, and then she would be as good as new. After all, if a
sociologist couldn't handle his own reactions in a situation of this
kind he wasn't of much value in his profession!

* * * * *

The sun was hot as they returned from the little burial ground near the
church. There were quite a number of other graves besides Roddy's, but
his was the loneliest, Jorden thought. He had never forgiven them for
robbing him of his home and the only world in which he could live.

[Illustration]

He felt the growing coldness of Bonnie as they came up to their shabby
cabin that had once looked so brave to him. Serrengia had cost him
Bonnie, too. Even before Roddy. She had remained only because it was her
duty.

He took her hand as she put a foot on the doorstep. "Bonnie--"

She looked at him bitterly, her eyes searching his face as if to find
something of the quality that once drew her to him. "Don't try to say
it, Mark--there's nothing left to say."

He let her go, and the two children followed past him into the house. He
sat down on the step and looked out over the fields that edged the river
bank. His mind felt numbed by Roddy's passing. Bonnie's insistent blame
made him live it over and over again.

The li