She turned the console off, and again the house was quiet, and the chill mantle of worry drew closer about her brain, grew steadily into a stifling strait-jacket of helpless fear. Lord, there was nothing she could _do_.... Then of a sudden her pulse was racing as the large helicopter landed at the side of the house. She looked out the window. But it was not Doug. The word ELECTROSUPPLY was stenciled in large letters above the craft's opening freight-door, and she watched as a dolly was lowered from it. There were four men, and they were unloading a large crate. It went on the dolly, and then the dolly with its load was being pushed by the four to the side of the house. The door-signal sounded. "Yes?" "Madame Blair, would you please sign for the shipment?" "Yes, of course. But what is it that I--" "Sorry, Madame. Only the Order Division knows the nature of the consignment--policy, you know. There, that'll do it. Thank you." * * * * * He left with her permission to leave the crate in the cellar, and after a few minutes the 'copter and its efficient crew was gone. She knew intuitively that it was the equipment he needed so desperately--ironically enough it must be that. She had to fight back the impulse to rush to the cellar and rip the crate open. For if in some way she should slip, do something wrong, damage what was inside.... Quite suddenly her thoughts were marshaled from their uninhibited adventuring and became sharp hard-edged instruments. Even the tiniest error now could mean the difference between winning and losing, and it was still not too late to win. A message to him through his office, but it must be contrived somehow so that they could not suspect that she was telling him he must return immediately. She could simply say something like "as per your instructions, am informing you of arrival of the last item for which you phoned. Am sure it is exactly what you wanted. Good luck, Lisa." That should work-- But the telecall signal sounded before she could pick the slender unit from its cradle. "Yes?" "Madame Blair?" It was a woman's voice. "Why yes, speaking." "This is Madame--Doe. We missed you at the culture lecture yesterday afternoon my dear, and just wanted to make sure that everything was--all right, you know." "The lecture--oh, yes of course. Why I'm sorry--" "But everything is--all right? You're not ill?" "Oh, no. It just must have been one of my usual oversights," Dot bluffed. And she knew there was something missing. In the woman's voice. Something.... "Oversights?" "Why, yes--I'm afraid so. Dreadfully sorry. But of course I'll try not to forget next time." "But Madame Blair--" and then suddenly the tone changed. "Yes, I know how it is--we all have those days, don't we? Well, there's something you really should know, so don't forget our next little get-together, will you?" An enchanting little giggle was attached, but there had been no giggle in the first three words.