at her then went on sweeping.

"Heavens, it must have been full, Dave."

"He'd been filling it almost a year. Big thing, remember? A year of pennies and he didn't get to spend a one."

"What do you suppose this came off of?"

"What?

Oh, that's off the Chinese lamp. It's the thing you screw on top

to keep the shade on,'

"Oh, of course. You don't want to keep it, do you?"

"Put it on the piano with the pennies. He liked that lamp. It was one of the few things I got for the place."

"The phonograph was yours."

"I made that for myself before I met him. I mean things for this place. One time way back I said this was sure different from the places I'd rented before. I meant the size and not having the landlady next door, but he took it for a compliment and began spending whole paychecks on new furniture and gadgets and stuff. He'd stand around like an eager kid waiting to hear what I thought of each new thing. And I'd just say it was okay. You know, that's all I ever said?"

"Hm. This mask was made of plaster, Dave. I thought it was wood all along."

"Save every damned piece of that mask. I'm gluing it back together if it takes me the rest of my life."

Some of the pieces are pretty small."

"I don't care if they're dust. Say, Ann, have you run across his little address book anywhere? I want to go through it."

"No. It was that little brown one, wasn't it?"

"About so big. Leather. His name was stamped on it in gold."

"No, I haven't seen it. Oh, I know. Those officers must have picked it up." "No, they didn't. I asked them."

Funny. But it's small. We'll probably run across it way back under something. Stop sweeping so hard. You make dust.

"I'm through."

"Where you going with the radio, Dave? Is it broken, too?"

"Look at it."

"You can fix it, can't you? That one of mine . . .

"Not this one."

She glanced at him and went back to putting the books on the shelf. Then at the silence behind her, she looked up again and stared. He had picked up a wilted flower. He seemed to have stopped breathing.

"Darling, throw it away!"

"That was the rottenest touch of all. They all said he must have put it in his hair himself, but I know he didn't. Not little Joe. It was put there and the hand that did it should be burned to the bone. This was as bad as the surgery the guy did on him. That cutting, that cutting! Christ, I hope he was dead first!"

"Dave, must we TALK about it! I've lived with every horrible detail day and night since it happened and I can't bear to hear another word about it!" "No?"

"NO. Do you know how long I stood outside that door before I came in tonight?"

"Yes, I do, Ann. I used up my last three bucks driving around the neighborhood before I told the cabby where to stop."

. . . I'm sorry."

"I hate those. two words. Not from you. I mean from me." "Darling, you've nothing to be sorry for!"

"I see."

"Is there another box somewhere? These are both full.”

They finished after midnight and stood looking at the place. It held an even greater horror now with its bareness. The broken things leaned in a