Why not carry it a step further? Maybe all women were the same. Guardians of mankind's ancient customs and traditions--including the practice of witchcraft. Fighting their husband's battles from behind the scenes, by sorcery. Keeping it a secret; and, on those occasions when they were discovered, conveniently explaining it as feminine susceptibility to superstitious fads. Half of the human race still actively practicing sorcery. Why not? "It's your play, Norman," said Mrs. Sawtelle, sweetly. "You look as if you had something on your mind," said Mrs. Gunnison. "How are you getting along up there, Norm?" her husband called. "Those women got you buffaloed?" Buffaloed? He came back to reality with a jerk. That was just what they almost had done. And all because the human imagination was a thoroughly unreliable instrument, like a rubber ruler. Let's see, if he played his queen it might set up a king in Mrs. Gunnison's hand so she could get in and run her spades. * * * * * After that round, Tansy served refreshments, and the usual shop talk began. "Saw Pollard today," Gunnison remarked, helping himself to a section of chocolate cake. "Told me he'd be meeting with the trustees tomorrow morning, to decide among other things on the chairmanship in sociology." Hervey Sawtelle choked on a crumb and almost lost his coffeecup. Norman caught Mrs. Sawtelle glaring at him vindictively. She changed her face and murmured, "How interesting." He smiled. That kind of hate he could understand. No need to confuse it with witchcraft. He went to the kitchen to get Mrs. Carr a glass of water, and met Mrs. Gunnison coming out of the bedroom. She was slipping a leather-bound booklet into her capacious handbag. It recalled to his mind Tansy's diary. Probably an address book. Totem slipped out from behind her, giving what sounded like a hiss as he dodged past her feet. "I loathe the animal," said Mrs. Carr bluntly, and walked past him. Professor Carr had made arrangements for a final rubber, men at one table, women at the other. "A barbaric arrangement," said Tansy, winking. "You really don't think we can play bridge at all." "On the contrary, my dear, I think you play very well," Carr replied seriously. "But I confess that at times I prefer to play with men. I can get a better idea of what's going on in their minds. Whereas women still baffle me." "As they should, dear," added Mrs. Carr, bringing a flurry of laughter. The cards suddenly began to run freakishly, with abnormal distribution of suits, and play took a wild turn. But Norman found it impossible to concentrate, which made Sawtelle an even more jittery partner than usual. He kept listening to what the women were saying at the other table. His rebellious imagination persisted in reading hidden meanings into the most innocuous remarks.