Adam patted his briefcase absent-mindedly. "Oh, I've heard of it. Yes, I've heard of it."

Helen could stand it no longer. Suddenly, she jumped up and let the sheet fall away from her. There she stood, completely unclothed, her naked body lovely and trembling in need before her husband. "I'm not so bad, am I?" she asked. "I've got eyes. I can see myself in the mirror. I still look pretty good!"

"Yes, yes. You look fine!" Adam hastened to reassure her, noting that Helen was on the verge of becoming hysterical. That was the last thing he wanted. It was so disruptive.

"Beautiful! Say I look beautiful!" Helen spat out. "Say it!"

Funny how now that Helen was standing there in front of him stark naked, he was thinking of Miss Johnson. He would have to make a note about this. Nevertheless, Adam felt a definite excitement growing again inside him. If it was sex that Helen wanted, he supposed that he could accommodate her at this particular moment. Anything for a little peace and quiet. Couldn't very well have her going around screaming half the night when he had work that he wanted to do.

"Beautiful. Yes, you do look beautiful," he said compliantly.

"Oh, Christ, why can't you ever say anything on your own?" Helen cried, disheartened. She felt ashamed and reached for the sheet to cover her body. "I'm leaving. Get on with your work!" she said.

"No, don't go, Helen. I've got a little time." Adam got up and came toward her. As he drew near, the scientist could see that his wife was trembling and that she was extremely upset, and yet, he kept thinking about the voluptuous Miss Betty Johnson and how she had responded. "Come on, Helen, let's go into the bedroom," he said, taking his wife's arm gently.

Helen felt a surge of hope. A feeling of lewd excitement stirred in her loins despite her misgivings. Meekly, she accompanied her husband through the living room of their apartment, a room that was hardly ever used, to the bedroom. Once there, Adam headed her toward the bed while he began to undress. Helen slipped under the covers of the bed and watched her husband of ten years as he took off his clothes. Her breathing was shallow, guarded, and her eyes were half-closed as she waited for him. She dared not make a prediction about what was to happen or to think too much about just how her plan had apparently worked.