upted her. Mark
Williams reached for it. The extension was beside his bed.

"Hello," he said. And then, although she could not hear the answering
voice, she felt him stiffen. And she knew. As well as if she could
hear the words she knew, with a mother's instinct for disaster.

"Yes," Dr. Williams said. "Yes ... I see ... I understand ... I'll
come at once.... Thank you for calling."

He slid out of bed before she could stop him.

"An emergency call." He spoke quietly. "I have to go." He began to
throw on his clothes.

"It's David," she said. "Isn't it?" She sat up. "Don't try to keep me
from knowing. It's about David."

"Yes," he said. His voice was very tired. "David is hurt. I have to go
to him. An accident."

"He's dead." She said it steadily. "David's dead, isn't he, Mark?"

He came over and sat beside her and put his arms around her.

"Edith," he said. "Edith--Yes, he's dead. Forty minutes ago. The
car--went over a curve. They have him--at the County morgue. They want
me to--identify him. Identify him. Edith! You see, the car caught
fire!"

"I'm coming with you," she said. "I'm coming with you!"

* * * * *

The taxi waited in a pool of darkness between two street lights. The
long, low building which was the County morgue, a blue lamp over its
door, stood below the street level. A flight of concrete steps went
down to it from the sidewalk. Ten minutes before, Dr. Mark Williams
had gone down those steps. Now he climbed back up them, stiffly,
wearily, like an old man.

Edith was waiting in the taxi, sitting forward on the edge of the
seat, hands clenched. As he reached the last step she opened the door
and stepped out.

"Mark," she asked shakily, "was it--"

"Yes, it's David." His voice was a monotone. "Our son. I've completed
the formalities. For now the only thing we can do is go home."

"I'm going to him!" She tried to pass. He caught her wrist. Discretely
the taxi driver pretended to doze.

"No, Edith! There's no need. You mustn't--see him!"

"He's my son!" she cried. "Let me go!"

"No! What have you got under your coat?"

"It's the bell, the rose-crystal bell!" she cried. "I'm going to ring
it where David can hear!"

Defiantly she brought forth her hand, clutching the little bell. "It
brought you back, Mark! Now it's going to bring back David!"

"Edith!" he said in horror. "You mustn't believe that's possible. You
can't. Those were coincidences. Now let