d fallen
without quivering.

* * * * *

The clock in the hall struck two with muted strokes. Cautiously Edith
Williams rose on her elbow and looked down at her husband's face. His
eyes opened and looked back at her.

"You're awake," she said, unnecessarily.

"I woke up a few minutes ago," he answered. "I've been lying
here--thinking."

"I'll get you another phenobarbital. Dr. Amos said for you to take
them and sleep until tomorrow."

"I know. I'll take one presently. You know--hearing that clock just
now reminded me of something."

"Yes?"

"Just before I came to this afternoon, after the crash, I had a
strange impression of hearing a bell ring. It sounded so loud in my
ears I opened my eyes to see where it was."

"A--bell?"

"Yes. Just auditory hallucination, of course."

"But Mark--"

"Yes?"

"A--a bell did ring. I mean, I had the crystal bell in my bag and it
tinkled a little. Do you suppose--"

"Of course not." But though he spoke swiftly he did not sound
convincing. "This was a loud bell. Like a great gong."

"But--I mean, Mark darling--a moment earlier you--had no pulse."

"No pulse?"

"And you weren't--breathing. Then the crystal bell tinkled and
you--you...."

"Nonsense! I know what you're thinking and believe me--it's nonsense!"

"But Mark." She spoke carefully. "The driver of the other car. You had
no sooner regained consciousness than he--"

"He had a fractured skull!" Dr. Williams interrupted sharply. "The
ambulance intern diagnosed it. Skull fractures often fail to show
themselves and then--bingo, you keel over. That's what happened. Now
let's say no more about it."

"Of course." In the hall, the clock struck the quarter hour. "Shall I
fix the phenobarbital now?"

"Yes--no. Is David home?"

She hesitated. "No, he hasn't got back yet."

"Has he phoned? He knows he's supposed to be in by midnight at the
latest."

"No, he--hasn't phoned. But there's a school dance tonight."

"That's no excuse for not phoning. He has the old car, hasn't he?"

"Yes. You gave him the keys this morning, remember?"

"All the more reason he should phone." Dr. Williams lay silent a
moment. "Two o'clock is too late for a 17-year-old boy to be out."

"I'll speak to him. He won't do it again. Now please, Mark, let me get
you the phenobarbital. I'll stay up until David--"

* * * * *

The ringing phone, a clamor in the darkness, interr