He leaned on the window sill, looking at the lizardlike yet grotesquely anthropoid form, bathed in the yellow sunset glow, which, his wandering mind remembered, was supposed to symbolize the souls of the dead passing into and out of the underworld. Below the dragon, jutting out from under the cornice, was a sculptured head, one of a series of famous scientists and mathematicians decorating the entablature. He made out the name "Galileo," along with a brief inscription of some sort. When he turned back to answer the phone, it suddenly seemed very dark in the office. "Saylor? I just want to tell you that I'm going to give you until tomorrow--" "Listen, Jennings," Norman cut in sharply, "I hung up on you last night because you kept shouting into the phone. This threatening line won't do you any good." The voice continued where it had broken off, growing dangerously high. "--until tomorrow to withdraw your charges and have me reinstated at Hempnell. If you don't--" "I told you not to threaten. There were no charges. You just flunked out. If you want to talk it over reasonably, come and see me." The voice at the other end of the line broke into a screaming obscene torrent of abuse, so loud that he could still hear it very plainly as he was placing the receiver back in the cradle. Paranoid--that was the way it sounded. Then he suddenly sat very still. At twenty past one last night he had burned a charm supposedly designed to ward off evil influence from him. The last of Tansy's "hands." At about the same time Margaret van Nice had decided to accuse him of seducing her, and Marvin Jennings had decided to make him responsible for an imaginary plot. Next morning Hervey Sawtelle, poking around in the stacks, had found-- Rubbish! With an angry snort of laughter at his own credulity, he picked up his hat and headed for home. III. Tansy was in a radiant mood, prettier than she had seemed in months, younger-looking than her thirty-six years. Twice he caught her smiling to herself, when he glanced up from his supper. He gave her the note from Mrs. Gunnison. "Mrs. Carr asked after you, too. Gushed all over me--in a ladylike way, of course. Then, later on--" He caught himself as he started to tell about the cigarette, and Mrs. Carr cutting him, and the interview in her office. No use worrying Tansy with things that might be considered bad luck. No telling what further constructions she might put upon them. She glanced through the note and handed it back to him. "It has the authentic Hempnell flavor, don't you think?" she observed. He read: DEAR TANSY: Where are you keeping yourself? I haven't seen you on campus more than once or twice this year. If you're busy with something especially interesting, why not tell us about it? Why not come to tea this Saturday, and tell me all about yourself? HULDA.