A moan came from the doorway. Norris looked up to see his wife's white face staring at him in horror, just before she turned and fled into the house. Franklin's bony head lifted. "I see," he said. "We have a fixation on our deviant. Very well, Norris, I'll take care of it myself. Where is it?" "In the house, sir. My wife's bedroom." "Get it." * * * * * Norris went glumly in the house. The bedroom door was locked. "Honey," he called softly. There was no answer. He knocked gently. A key turned in the lock, and his wife stood facing him. Her eyes were weeping ice. "Stay back!" she said. He could see Peony behind her, sitting in the center of the floor and looking mystified. Then he saw his own service revolver in her trembling hand. "Look, honey--it's _me_." She shook her head. "No, it's not you. It's a man that wants to kill a little girl. Stay back." "You'd shoot, wouldn't you?" he asked softly. "Try to come in and find out," she invited. "Let me have Peony." She laughed, her eyes bright with hate. "I wonder where Terry went. I guess he died. Or adapted. I guess I'm a widow now. Stay back, Mister, or I'll kill you." Norris smiled. "Okay, I'll stay back. But the gun isn't loaded." She tried to slam the door; he caught it with his foot. She struck at him with the pistol, but he dragged it out of her hand. He pushed her aside and held her against the wall while she clawed at his arm. "Stop it!" he said. "Nothing will happen to Peony, I promise you!" He glanced back at the child-thing, who had begun to cry. Anne subsided a little, staring at him angrily. "There's no other way out, honey. Just trust me. She'll be all right." Breathing quickly, Anne stood aside and watched him. "Okay, Terry. But if you're lying--tell me, is it murder to kill a man to protect a child?" Norris lifted Peony in his arms. Her wailing ceased, but her tail switched nervously. "In whose law book?" he asked his wife. "I was wondering the same thing." Norris started toward the door. "By the way--find my instruments while I'm outside, will you?" "The dissecting instruments?" she gasped. "If you intend--" "Let's call them surgical instruments, shall we? And get them sterilized." He went on outside, carrying the child. Franklin was waiting for him in the kennel doorway. "Was that Mrs. Norris I heard screaming?" Norris nodded. "Let's get this over with. I don't stomach it so well." He let his eyes rest unhappily on the top of Peony's head. Franklin grinned at her and took a bit of candy out of his pocket. She refused it and snuggled closer to Norris. "When can I go home?" she piped. "I want Daddy." Franklin straightened, watching her with amusement. "You're going home in a few minutes, little newt. Just a few minutes."