revealing enough about her opinion of television, and the Happy Clown cult, and the state of society in general, to cause her doctors to raise their eyebrows pityingly and perform the Steyner at once. While Steven sat unknowing in the waiting room, smoking a full pack of Marquis cigarettes, the thing was done.

At last the doctor came out to him and said what was always said in such cases. "It was necessary to do something—you understand, no mention—" and for a moment Steven felt so ill that he was grateful for the little ampoule the doctor broke and held under his nose. They always carried those when they had to give news of a Steyner to relatives or sweethearts or friends.

The doctor said, "All right now? Good .... You'll be careful, of course. She may be conscious for a minute; there's no harm in it yet, she won't move or touch the—"

Steven said, "I'll be careful."

He was still feeling ill when they let him in to see Denise. He sat down beside her bed and spoke to her urgently. "Denise, talk to me. Please, Denise!"

She opened her eyes, looked at him drowsily and smiled. "Oh, Stevie, I'm so glad you came. I've been wanting you, darling."

Steven said, "Denise—"

She frowned. "Why do you call me that? Call me Denny. Did you get the part, darling?"

He drew back a little. "Yes, I got it."

She gave him a radiant smile. "That's wonderful! I'm so proud of you, Stevie." She slept again.

That night in the HYM dormitory Steven did not sleep. He lay quiet, tense, hoping for the relief of tears, but it did not come.

Steven went to see Denise every day though after the first time she was not awake to know him. The doctors were keeping her under sedation until the head bandage could be removed. So far as Denise was to know, she had gone to the hospital simply for a rather protracted appendectomy. Looking at her, Steven knew that he could never leave her. He had loved her completely; he would love her now with as much of himself as she would need or understand.

For a while he waited to 

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