He walked to a tiny room at the far end of the great showroom and closed the door. He stretched wearily out on a low, folding cot, the only piece of furniture, and reached for a tiny black power cord hanging nearby. Deftly he plugged it into the socket under his armpit, and breathed deeply, relaxedly. "Yes," he chanted softly, drifting off to sleep, "people _are_ such dears sometimes." THE END * * * * *