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Sheila rose and walked slowly over to the table. She picked up
the clock. Ornate cupids chased each other around the base. Below
the face of the dial, a smiling cupid held a heart that proclaimed:
"Douglas and Sheila-till the end of time." Sheila shivered, then im-
pulsively wound and set the clock. She set it down at an angle where
the face and the inscription below would be invisible when she sat
down.

She paced the floor, staring alternately at the clock and the phone.
Finally weary of this she again sat down beside the mercifully silent
phone. The minutes lengthened into hours, and still she sat.

A noise at the front door attracted her attention, and she ftew to
it and flung it open. Her face fell when she saw her husband. "Doug-
las," she exclaimed. "It's only you."

He pushed past her, walking as a man hypnotized. He sank into
a chair. Sheila rushed to him. "Get up," she shrieked. "Dougie's not
back yet and it's been over two hours."

He appeared not to hear her. His tie was loosened and his shirt
was wrinkled. His suit looked as if he had slept in it. Sheila pounded
on him. "Douglas, you've got to find him. He's all I have."

Douglas's face lost the vague look when she spoke. He seemed to
gain consciousness of his surroundings. "Sit down, Sheila," he said
softly.

"Sit down! When Dougie's out there. It's dark. He'll be scared."
The words tumbled out. "If you won't find him I will." Sheila grab-
bed her coat from the chair and fiung it over her shoulders. "I'll find
him," she repeated, reaching for the door handle.

Douglas crossed the room to her, putting an arm around her
shoulder. "Sheila, I know where Dougie is."

Her face was distorted by a wild fear. "He's dead, isn't he, Doug-
las? He's dead."

Douglas dropped his head. "I wish I could find some way to tell
you, Sheila," he said. "I wish I could find some way."

"You have, Sheila screamed. "You've told me." She faced him
defiantly. "You told me you'd get him away from me. And now you
tell me he's dead so you can have him to yourself." Her voice rose
hysterically. "It's a lie. It's a dirty, rotten lie!" She caught her
breath and questioned him sharply. "Where is he, Douglas? You
know you can't do this to me. He loves me." She added with vehe-
mence. "He hates you."

Douglas flinched, then quietly stated, as one does a proved fact.
"He's dead, Sheila. He was struck by a car crossing the street five

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