"I see a dead man stabbed in the heart," he said. "Let me fix you a toddy and put you to bed," Mamie said soothingly. "And, Alamena-"

"He don't need no more to drink," Alamena cut her off.

"For Jesus Christ's sake, Alamena, stop it. Go phone Doctor Ramsey and tell him to come over here."

"He's not sick," Alamena said.

"I didn't say I was sick," Reverend Short said. "He's just trying to stir up trouble for some reason." "I'm hurt," Reverend Short stated. "You'd be hurt, too, if somebody had pushed you out of a window."

Mamie took Alamena by the arm and tried to pull her away. "Go now and telephone the doctor."

But Alamena pulled back. "Listen, Mamie Pullen, for God's sake be your age. If he fell out of that window it's a cinch he couldn't have walked back upstairs. I suppose he's going to tell you next that he fell into the lap of God."

"I fell into a basket of bread," Reverend Short declared. At last the guests laughed with relief. Now they knew the good reverend was joking. Even Mamie couldn't restrain herself.

"See what I mean?" Alamena said.

"Reverend Short, shame on you, pulling our leg like that," Mamie said indulgently.

"If you don't believe me, go look at the bread," Reverend Short challenged.

"What bread?"

"The basket of bread I fell into. It's on the sidewalk in front of the A amp;P store. God put it there to break my fall."

Mamie and Alamena exchanged glances.

"I'll go look, you go call the doctor," Mamie said.

"I want to look, too."

Everybody wanted to look.

Sighing loudly, as though indulging the whims of a lunatic against her better judgement, Mamie led the way.

The bedroom door was closed. When she opened it, she exclaimed, "Why, the light's on!"

With growing trepidation she crossed the lighted bedroom and leaned out of the open window. Alamena leaned out beside her. The others squeezed into the medium-sized room. As many as could peered over the two women's shoulders.