nough to
drive, now."

"I'll get public transportation," I said. "You get home, and to bed."

She laughed. "Public transportation? Freddy, you don't know this town.
There isn't any. Did you just get here, tonight?"

I looked at her, and nodded.

"On the bum?" she said quietly.

"I--suppose," I said honestly, "though the word has connotations which
don't describe me." I put my hand in my jacket pocket and fumbled in the
open bag for one of the smaller diamonds. I brought one out about the
size of my little finger nail, and placed it on the table.

All the light in the room seemed to be suddenly imprisoned there. She
stared at it, and up at me.

"Fred--for heaven's sake--that's not--real, is it?"

I nodded.

"But--it--" She glanced from the diamond to me, her mouth partially
open. "Fred, what kind of monstrous gag is this? God, I thought I'd seen
everything, growing up in this town. Fred--"

"I'd like to sell it," I said. "You, Jean, are my only friend in this
town. Could you help me arrange for its sale?"

She was looking at me with wonder now, studying me. "Hot?" she asked.

"Hot--?"

"Stolen--you know what I mean."

"Stolen? Jean, you didn't mean to accuse me of that."

Skepticism was ugly on her lovely face. "Fred, what's your angle? You
step out of the darkness like some man from Mars in a strange suit, with
no money, but a diamond that must be worth--"

"We'll learn what it's worth," I said. "Mars isn't inhabited, Jean.
Don't you trust me? Have I done anything to cause you to distrust me?"

"Nothing," she said.

"Do you distrust all men, Jean?"

"No. Just the ones I've met. Oh, baby, and I thought you were a farmer."
She was crushing out her cigarette. "You haven't a place to stay, but
I've got a guest house, and you'll stay there, tonight. You aren't
stepping back into the darkness, tonight, Fred Werig. You, I want to
know about."

The words held a threat, but not her meaning, I was sure. And what
better way to orient myself than in the home of a friend?

* * * * *

That was some home she had. Massive, in an architecture I'd assumed was
confined to the south-eastern United States. Two-story place, with huge,
two-story pillars and a house-wide front porch, the great lawn studded
with giant trees.

And she lived there alone, excepting for the servants. She was no
huddler, and I told her that.

"Dad owned a lot of property in this town," she said. "He was