 I heard someone opening the door, and I turned around. He stood there in the doorway. An old, old man in his early 30s. His shoulders sagged, and there was a look of utter dejection about him. And he blinked stupidly at me, and then he walked slowly over to the woman on the couch. What's the matter with her? Ellen. No, let her alone. Let her alone. She's exhausted. You're Hal Coran. I got to talk to her.