Maxwell reached down and tugged Sylvester back into his original position. Sylvester growled and mumbled in his sleep.

Maxwell straightened and leaned back into his chair, looking up into the sky.

"Look at the stars," he said. "There is nothing like the skies of Earth. I'm glad to be back again."

"And now that you're back?"

"After I see you safely home and pick up my luggage, I'm going back to Oop's. He'll have one of those fruit jars all unscrewed and we'll do some drinking and sit and talk till dawn, then I'll get into the bed he has for guests, and he'll curl up on his pile of leaves..."

"I saw those leaves over in the corner and was consumed with curiosity. But I didn't ask."

"He sleeps there all the time. Not comfortable in a bed. After all, when for many years a pile of leaves has been the height of luxury..."

"You're trying to make a fool of me again."

"No, I'm not," said Maxwell. "I'm telling you the truth."

"I didn't mean what will you do tonight. I mean what will you do? You are dead, remember?"

"I'll explain," said Maxwell. "I'll continually explain. Everywhere I go there'll be people who'll want to know what happened. There might even be an investigation of some sort. I sincerely hope there won't, but I suppose there may have to be."

"I'm sorry," Carol said, "but, then, I'm also glad. How fortunate it was that there were two of you."

"If Transport could work it out," said Maxwell, "they might have something they could sell. All of us could keep a second one of us stashed away somewhere against emergency."

"But it wouldn't work," Carol pointed out. "Not personally. This other Peter Maxwell was a second person and- oh, I don't know what I mean. It's too late at night to get it figured out, but I'm sure it wouldn't work."