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Verne felt a cold chill. “So that’s it.”

Harry Liu moved off down the road, balancing himself expertly on the bike, a thin man, very small, in his faded uniform. Verne watched him as he grew smaller and smaller, bouncing up and down slightly, holding onto the handlebars with both hands, his face expressionless.

Verne turned to go. All at once he paused.

Harry Liu had halted the bike. Verne watched him, puzzled. Harry Liu groped in his coat pocket. He brought out something. Very carefully he dropped it onto the road and stepped on it, grinding the heel of his boot into it. The remains sparkled in the sunlight.

Verne’s lighter.

Verne shuddered. “My God.” He made his way back toward the office. When he looked again Harry Liu was gone. “My God.” He shook his head, dazed. “So that’s what it will be....”

* * * * *

Carl and Barbara walked slowly along the path. In the warm sunlight Barbara’s hair was beginning to dry out. The stream of water that had been trickling down her neck had stopped. Her clothing no longer clung to her. Some of her spirits began to flow back a little.

“How do you feel now?” Carl asked.

“All right.”

“That’s good.” They continued in silence for a time. Presently they came to the women’s dormitory. Carl stopped. He waited for Barbara to speak.

“Want to sit around while I change?” Barbara said, finally.

“I should go on and get something to eat. I’ve been up a long time. I’m hungry.”

“If you want to wait I’ll eat with you later.”

Carl considered.

“Hurry up,” Barbara said impatiently. “Make up your mind. I want to get inside and change.”

“Lead the way.”

They walked up the steps into the building. On the second floor Barbara opened the door to her room. They went inside.

“Not bad,” Carl said, looking around. “Those are pretty flowers in the vase there.” He wandered around the room, gazing at the prints on the walls and the books.

“I’ll leave you,” Barbara said.

“Yes, go ahead. I’ll try not to be in the way.” Carl was standing before the bookcase, his hands behind his back, his head tilted to one side, trying to read the titles of the books. Barbara went to the closet and took down her dark slacks. From the dresser she nabbed a white shirt.

“I’ll be back soon.” Barbara left the room. She hurried down the hall to the bathroom. In a moment hot water was running in the tub. She stripped off her damp clothes.

Soon she was sitting in the tub, letting the hot water pour around her. She sank down into the water as it rose higher and higher. Odd how warm water could take the dampness out of a person. She sighed with relief as the water filled up the tub, covering her more and more. There was no pleasure like a hot bath.

For a long time she lay stretched out in the tub, her hands resting on the rim. She was relaxed, at peace. After all, she had not been in real danger. If she had started to drown Carl would have saved her. Probably he would have waded out, picked her up, and carried her back to shore explaining the Archimedean principle of the displacement of volume and the loss of proportional weight of a body immersed in water....

She laughed nervously. Would he have done that? It would be like him, lecturing and announcing in a booming voice. Maybe he would be too busy explaining to save her. Maybe he would stand over her as she drowned, lecturing and talking, on and on.

Barbara rubbed the bar of Ivory soap into foam, patting the foam against her arms and shoulders. She reached over and turned the taps off. The tub was full. She sank down, washing the soap foam from her. She pulled the plug out and stepped from the tub, onto the bath mat on the floor.

She dried herself, carefully and rapidly. When she was completely dry she put on her clean clothes, the dark slacks and crisp white shirt Standing before the small mirror she brushed her hair over and over again, until she could feel it against her neck lying light and fluffy. Then she gathered up her old damp clothes and hurried up the hall to her room.

Carl was sitting on the bed reading a book.

“What is it?” Barbara said. “The book.”

“Russell’s Outline of Western Philosophy.”

“How is it?” She hung up the towel in the closet.

“Interesting. I’d like to borrow it sometime.”

“You can, if you want.” Barbara sat down on the chair. “Cigarette?” She held out the package to Carl.

“No thanks. I don’t smoke.”

Barbara lit a cigarette and put the package on the table. She sat smoking, watching Carl as he turned the pages of the Russell book. Carl glanced up at her uneasily. After a while he put the book down on the bed, closing it.

“I guess I don’t want to borrow it. I used to read a lot of philosophy, but not so much any more. I think when I’m through with my treatise I’ll forget the whole business.”

“What will you read, then?”

“Fiction. I haven’t read much fiction. I’ve spent all my time with Kant and Spinoza.”

“Was it wasted?”

“Not completely. Not more than the geometry you learn in high school.”

“I’d call that wasted.”

“Perhaps.” He nodded. “I suppose so. There’s more outside to see than in books.”

“Do you feel that way?”

“Yes. That’s why I walked around today. I got up very early, at seven-thirty.”

“You passed by here. I heard you whistling.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter. It was a nice morning. I like to be out, too. That’s why I was in the water.”

“I was surprised to see you splashing around. I was walking back from the hill and I cut across the park. I didn’t mean to spy on you.”

There was silence.

“Are you angry about it?”

“I was. But it doesn’t matter. After all, the park is a public place.”

“I’m glad you’re not mad any more.” Carl smiled at her, his big honest face beaming in relief. “You were mad for a while. I don’t blame you. I shouldn’t have been standing there watching. I knew I was doing something wrong. I knew I should have gone away. I realized it at the time. But I’m afraid I didn’t. I just stood and watched you.”

“I want to know why,” Barbara said quietly.

Carl flushed, startled. “I didn’t mean to watch. I—”

“You had no right to. You must never do that to another person.”

Carl hung his head, crimson with humiliation. He muttered a few words and then subsided into choked silence.

“Don’t ever do anything like that again. Not to anyone.” Barbara stirred. “Everybody has his own world, his private world. Don’t spy and ruin it.”

“Did—did I do that?”

She looked quickly up. “That’s what you wanted to do.”

“No!”

“You invaded my world.”

“No! I didn’t mean to! You’re wrong. It wasn’t that at all.”

“Okay.” She nodded briefly. “Let’s forget it.”

She lit another cigarette and sat smoking rapidly, her hands pressed tightly into fists, not looking at Carl. Carl shifted unhappily. He swallowed a few times. At last he got to his feet.

Barbara glanced up. “What is it?”

“I think I’d better go.”

“No. Sit down.”

Carl sat down awkwardly, feeling for the bed behind him. Barbara continued to sit in silence, her eyes bright, staring into the distance, unseeing.

“I have to do some things,” Carl muttered. “I have some letters to write. I—”

“You’re going?”

“I really have to.”

“Do you think you can come and go as you please?”