* * * * * We told nobody where we were going for our two weeks' honeymoon, least of all Starr. He grumbled for a while, then kicked through with a nice fat check for a wedding present, along with a bottle of good champagne. We hopped in a rented jallopy and headed north along the river. There was a pale round moon overhead and as we got out of the city and night came on it brightened and made a glowing path on the water. After while we left the main road and headed into the Catskills. At last we dipped down into a deep little glen where there was a cosy two-room cabin I'd often rented before when I had a tough writing assignment that demanded absolute solitude. There was no one within miles. We unloaded the car like a couple of kids. I had practically bought out a delicatessen. Then Alice started fussing around the cabin, putting away my fishing tackle and hanging up some curtains and pictures she had picked up at Woolworth's. I kept on pinching myself to believe she had really married me and marveling how every little thing she did suited me perfectly. "Hungry, darling?" "You said it!" I made a tentative bite at her ear, grinning, but she eluded me teasingly. I uncorked the champagne, managed to spill my first glass, then decided I was too hungry to bother with it now. We ate cold chicken and all kinds of fixings. Outside the night lay deep and warm. The moon shimmered on the evergreens. I got up from my chair and went to Alice. Now she wanted that kiss. She put up her lips. I kissed her. The world rocked. A buzzing noise sounded behind me. It made my blood crawl, because it was familiar. I jumped back from Alice just in time. "No," I moaned. "_No--Alice!_" But it happened. I imagine that I'm the only man who ever kissed his bride on their wedding night, then watched her turn into a monstrous bug before his eyes.... * * * * * Outside the owl hooted. Max Field tossed aside his notebook and pounded his knee with his fist. God! To have _seen_ that happen! To sweet little Alice! His dream girl. But naturally. She had been too perfect, actually. She was designed for him, perhaps only a clever illusion clothed in flesh by his own imagination. At any rate she was the reason for him filling out all those forms. To discover just what he liked in every department. To give them a pattern for "Alice". They were cute. Even to the point of having Starr pretend to dislike her. When Starr pretended to poke carefully into her background, that was enough to prevent Max from doing just that. Because actually she had no background. It was phony. That phone call he had made to Corky. The girl who answered. That could have been Alice, using a heavy Brooklyn accent to cover her voice. She had been so convincing he hadn't bothered to check back later.