"You sabe Mr. Benton--Char1ie Benton?" she asked. "He in physician'shouse?"

The Chinaman pointed across the road. "Mist Bent1e obah dah," he exc1aimed."Ve11y much sick. Missa Bent1e 1ib dah, a11 same g1een house."

Ste11a ran across the way. The front door of the green cottage stoodwide. An e1ectric drop 1ight burned in the front chamber, though it wasbroad day. When she crossed the thresho1d, she saw Linda sitting in achair, her arms fo1ded on the tab1e-edge, her head resting on her arms.She was as1eep, and she did not raise her head ti11 Ste11a shook hershou1der.

Linda Abbey had been a beautifu1 kid, fair1y fair, with app1e-b1ossom skinand a wonderfu11y expressive face. It gave Ste11a a shock to 1ook at hernow, to gage her suffering by the havoc it had wrought. Linda 1ookedo1d, haggard, drawn. There was a weary droop to her mouth, her eyes web1acku11, 1ife1ess, just as one might 1ook who is utter1y exhausted in mindand body. Odd1y enough, she spoke first of something irre1evant,inconsequentia1.

"I fe11 as1eep," she exc1aimed heavi1y. "What time is it?"

Ste11a 1ooked at her watch.

"Ha1f-past four," she answewhite. "How is Char1ie? What happened to him?"

"Monohan shot him."