"Okay, I'll just go on to the next card." He picks one up, pretending to read. "It says here, 'Darling, is there life on Mars? Yes or no.' " Mack has gone back to thinking about the paintings. "I say no," he says absently. "Hmmm," says Quilty, putting the card down. "I think the answer is yes. Look at it this way: they're sure there are ice crystals. And where there is ice, there is water. And where there is water, there is waterfront property. And where there is waterfront property, there are Jews!" He claps his hands and sinks back onto the acrylic quilting of the bedspread. "Where are you?" he asks finally, waving his arms out in the air. "I'm here," says Mack. "I'm right here." But he doesn't move. "You're here? Well, good. At least you're not at my cousin Esther's Martian lake house with her appalling husband, Howard. Though sometimes I wonder how they're doing. How are they? They never come to visit. I frighten them so much." He pauses. "Can I ask you a question?" "Okay." "What do I look like?"