alized that he was
looking down at her hand and withdrew it quickly.

The next few days were blindly busy. A note from the government
acknowledged receipt of his report and pictures, and was followed by a
message that the virus could not be identified. The implication was that
there was a strong possibility that it was the causative factor in the
new _malaise_.

* * * * *

Murt devoted more attention to the joint laboratory work on the virus.
The newspapers continued to come up with confidential information they
shouldn't have had, and they dubbed the Love Bug, _Murt's Virus_. The
name stuck, and the pathologist found himself famous overnight.

Phyllis continued to force all the credit upon him, on threat of
transferring out if he violated her confidence. Except for the nuisance
of dodging reporters, the accolade was not entirely unpleasant.

His pictures--old ones, Lord knew where they had dug them up--began
appearing in the papers. Instead of reproving him, the hospital board
voted him a substantial salary increase and gave him a free hand in
directing the research. A government grant was obtained to supplement
his budget, and the work picked up speed.

Necessarily, the lead that Phyllis Sutton's early research had given
them on the rest of the medical world was maintained largely because of
the time lag in disseminating the information contained in Murt's
report, and the additional time it took for other clinical laboratories
to confirm it.

Cages of experimental animals began arriving along with several
additional specialists. Ebert Industrial Labs, contrite over the
original information leak, made available their electron microscope, and
Murt assigned the new toxicologist to work over there with Feldman, the
bacteriologist, studying ways to weaken or destroy the virus.

Stitchell, the endocrinologist, and a trio of psychologists from the
State University began injecting monkeys with virus when Feldman found
he could propagate it in sterile medium.

On September 12, 1961, Dr. Sylvester Murt became a victim of the virus
which bore his name.

* * * * *

He had slept poorly and he awakened feeling empty. His first dismal
thought was that Phyl wouldn't be at the hospital this morning. He had
told her to spend a few hours down at Ebert Labs, getting notes on their
progress.

As he shaved, dressed and breakfasted, this thought preyed on his mind.