Jimmy didn't answer. It didn't seem to matter to him. "I'm coming over!" said Haynes feverishly. "I've got to talk!" "No," said Jimmy. "Jane and I are pretty close to each other. We've touched each other again. We're hoping. The barrier's wearing through. We hope it's going to break." "But it can't!" protested Haynes, shocked at the idea of improbabilities in the preposterous. "It--it can't! What'd happen if you turned up where she is, or--or if she turned up here?" "I don't know," said Jimmy, "but we'd be together." "You're crazy! You mustn't--" "Goodbye," said Jimmy politely. "I'm hoping, Haynes. Something has to happen. It has to!" His voice stopped. There was a noise in the room behind him; Haynes heard it. Only two words, and those faintly, and over a telephone, but he swore to himself that it was Jane's voice, throbbing with happiness. The two words Haynes thought he heard were, "_Jimmy! Darling!_" Then the telephone crashed to the floor and Haynes heard no more. Even though he called back frantically again, Jimmy didn't answer. * * * * * Haynes sat up all that night, practically gibbering, and he tried to call Jimmy again next morning, and then tried his office, and at last went to the police. He explained to them that Jimmy had been in a highly nervous state since the death of his wife. So finally the police broke into the house. They had to break in because every door and window was carefully fastened from the inside, as if Jimmy had been very careful to make sure nobody could interrupt what he and Jane hoped would occur. But Jimmy wasn't in the house. There was no trace of him. It was exactly as if he had vanished into the air. Ultimately the police dragged ponds and such things for his body, but they never found any clues. Nobody ever saw Jimmy again. It was recorded that Jimmy simply left town, and everybody accepted that obvious explanation. * * * * * The thing that really bothered Haynes was the fact that Jimmy had told him who'd almost crashed into him on the Saw Mill Road, and it was true. That was, to understate, hard to take. And there was the double-exposure picture of Jimmy's front door, which was much more convincing than any other trick picture Haynes had ever seen. But on the other hand, if it did happen, why did it happen only to Jimmy and Jane? What set it off? What started it? Why, in effect, did those oddities start at that particular time, to those particular people, in that particular fashion? In fact, did anything happen at all? Now, after Jimmy's disappearance, Haynes wished he could talk with him once more--talk sensibly, quietly, without fear and hysteria and this naggingly demanding wonderment.