Christopher Stasheff

‘In this instance, the discrepancy between what a man really is and what he wishes to believe of himself.’

Rod’s upper lip turned under and pressed against his teeth. ‘Just what do I wish to believe?’

‘That you are not emotionally dependent Upon this peasant Woman.’

‘Her name is Gwendylon.’

‘With Gwendylon. With any woman, for that matter. You wish to believe that you are emotionally independent, that you no longer enjoy what you call “being in love”.’

‘I enjoy love very much, thank you!’

‘That is a very different thing,’ the robot murmured, ‘than being in love.~

‘Damn it, I wasn’t talking about making love!’

‘Neither was I.’

Rod’s lips pressed into a thin white line. ‘You’re talking about emotional intoxication And if that’s what you mean - no, I am not in love. I have no desire to be in love. And if I have any say in the matter, I will never be in love again!’

Precisely what I said you wished to believe,’ mused the robot. Rod ground his teeth and waited for the surge of anger to pass. ‘Now what’s the truth about me?’

‘That you are in love.’

‘Damn it, a man’s either in love, or he’s not, and he damn well knows which.’

‘Agreed; but he may not be willing to admit it.’

‘Look,’ Rod snapped, ‘I’ve been in love before, and I know what it’s like. It’s … well . .

‘Go on,’ the ‘robot prodded.

‘Well, it’s like’ - Rod lifted his head and looked out at the I A~

countryside - ‘you know the world’s there., and you know it’s real; but you don’t give a damn, ‘cause you know for a certainty that you’re the center of the world, the most important thing in it.’

‘Have you felt that way recently?’ Fess murmured.

‘Well… yes, damn it.’ Rod’s mouth twisted.

‘With Catharine?’

Rod stared, and glared at the back of the horse’s head. ‘How the hell would you know?’ His eyes narrowed.