"Accidents, just accidents," he said. It wasn't like Jean, this talk. Almost-- His mind shied away from the word, and circled back. Almost paranoid. But Jean was stable, rational, always had been. Still, maybe a little chat with Doctor Holland would be a good idea. Breakdowns _do_ happen. They both turned at the slamming of the screen door. Then came the patter of childish feet on the kitchen linoleum, and Joanna burst into the room. "Mommy, I want to play with Marian. Why can't I play with Marian?" Jean put her arm around the girl's thin shoulder. "Darling, you won't be able to play with Marian for--quite a while. You mustn't worry about it now." "Mommy, she looked just like she was asleep, then they came and took her away." Her lips trembled. "I'm frightened, Mommy." * * * * * Jim looked down at the dark eyes, misted now, the straight brown hair, and the little snub nose with its dusting of freckles. _She's all we have left, poor kid, and not even ours, really. Helen's baby._ He looked up as the battered cuckoo clock on the mantel clicked warningly. "Time for little girls to be in bed, Joanna. Run along now like a good girl, and get washed." Even as he spoke the miniature doors flew open and the caricature of a bird popped out, shrilly announcing the hour. It cuckooed eight times, then bounced back inside. Joanna watched entranced. "Bed time, darling," said Jean gently. "School tomorrow, remember? And don't forget to brush your teeth." "I won't. Goodnight, Mommy, goodnight, Daddy." She turned up her face to be kissed, smiled at them, and was gone. They listened to her footsteps on the stairs. "Jim, I'm sorry about the things I said." Jean's voice was hesitant, a little ashamed. "It _is_ hard, though, you know it is-- Jim, aren't you listening? After all, you don't have to watch the clock now." Her smile was as labored as the joke. He smiled back. "I think I'll take a walk, honey. Some fresh air would do me good." "Jim, don't go. I'd rather not be alone just now." "Well." He looked at her, keeping his expression blank. "All right, dear. How about some coffee? I could stand another cup." And he thought: _Tomorrow I'll go. I'll talk to Holland tomorrow._ * * * * * "Let me get this straight, Jim." Holland's pudgy face was sober, his eyes serious. "You started out by thinking Jean was showing paranoid tendencies, and offhand I'm inclined to agree with you. Overnight you changed your mind and began thinking that maybe, just maybe, she might be right. Honestly, don't you suspect your own reasons for such a quick switch?" "Sure I do, Bob," Blair said worriedly. "Do you think I haven't beaten out my brains over it? I know the idea's monstrous. But just suppose there _was_ a branch of humanity--if you could call it human--living off us unsuspected. A branch that knows how to eliminate--competition--almost by instinct."