It reminded me, somehow, of the time Regina stepped on a lizard and left it in great pain, pulling itself along by its tiny front paws, and I had said, "Regina, you can't leave that poor thing suffering," and she had said, "Well, I didn't step on it on purpose," and I had said, "Somebody's got to kill it now," and she had said, "I've got a class." I could still feel the crunch of it under my foot as its tiny life went out.

"Sorry, Verne," she said, "you got yourself into this," and hung up.

That night Regina called me. "Can you give blood?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "If I stuff myself, I can get the scales up to a hundred and ten pounds."

"What type?"

"B. Rh positive."

"Thought you told me that once. Gail is in the hospital. They have to replace every drop of blood in her body. She may die anyhow."

I thought of the little fluff and squeak that was Gail. I eat de crus' of de toas'.

"What's the matter with her?" I asked fearfully.

"That damn Hiserean child is poison. Gail had a little cut inside her mouth from where she fell off the slide at school."

"I'll be at the hospital in ten minutes," I said, and hung up shakily. "Dinner is set for seven-thirty," I told Clay and Billy, and rushed out.

The first person I saw at the hospital was not Regina. It was Mrs. His-tara.

"How did you know?" I asked. Her integument was dull now and there were patches of scales rubbed off. Her eyes were almost not visible.

"Mrs. Crowley called me," she said. "In any case I would have been here. There is in Hi-nin also of poison. There remains for him only the Return Home. We must rejoice for him."

The smile she brought forth was more than I could bear.

"Gail's germs were poison to him?"

"Oh, no. He poisons himself. It is an ancient hormone, from the early days of our race when we had what your Mrs. Baden so wisely calls aggression. It is dormant in us since before the accounting of our history. An adult 

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