“It sounds all right to me,” murmured Rollison.

Her plate was nearly empty and he got up and went to the hotplate.

“Some pie?”

“I—oh, may I? It’s very nice . . . They do their own cooking and the housework, too, it’s quite remarkable how with a community of twenty-five there’s someone good at every job . . . Even baby-sitting!” She looked up as if wondering how he would react to that.

“It seems a nice self-contained unit with the inevitable flaw,” Rollison remarked.

“Flaw?”

“Yes. No all-one-sex community can really be fully effective, can it!”

“No-one attempts to stop them from having boy-friends in,” said Naomi Smith. “It really is a very modern establishment, Mr. Rollison.” She ate for a few moments and then went on: “I suppose it isn’t easy to explain attitudes. You see, my sponsors and I believe in the same fundamentals. The personal life of all individuals is theit own, providing only they aren’t a burden on, or a charge to, the community.” She looked at Rollison very straightly. “Would you agree with that, Mr. Rollison?”

“I can see problems in living like it, but the theory attracts me,” answered Rollison. “In this case, however, they are being a burden and a charge—if not on the community, then to a band of generous people. Naomi—answer me another question, please.”

“Of course,” she said.

“You aren’t asking me to sponsor or go along with what you’re doing, are you? You’re simply saying that you need help because you’re under some kind of threat which you can’t handle yourself, and are nervous that if this threat gets out of hand it might lead to publicity of a kind you don’t want.”