Randolph chuckled to himself as he fit his key into the lock and turned. Now he knew what more he could ask, all right! It was late, and the professor expected his wife to be in the bedroom sleeping. He would go directly to his study and reread his notes. By God! His loins were still throbbing at the thought of what he'd done to Miss Johnson! He couldn't wait to go over the whole thing again, verifying his experiment.

With a spring in his step, Adam went into his study and flicked on the light. To his surprise, he saw that his wife was sleeping on the sofa!

"Helen!" he gasped. "What the devil?"

Helen sat up, blinking her eyes. She clutched the sheet up to her neck, remembering that she was naked beneath it. Now she didn't feel nearly as bold as she had earlier when she'd decided to waylay her husband in his study, the place where he spent most of his time when he was home. No, now she was just sleepy, and she felt foolish to say the least. But her husband stood looking at her so incredulously, his mouth gaping fish-like at the sight of her that Helen grew suddenly angry and defiant. Why did he look at her like that? How stupid he looked standing there with his briefcase wearing that same old overcoat and that hat that she hated. Was she such a stranger to him, so little a part of his life that the sight of her in his study would shock him so?

"I thought I'd wait for you here," she said tersely, "since you hardly ever get to bed anymore!"

"Well, really, Helen!" Adam moved at last, placing his briefcase carefully upon his big oak desk and turning on the small lamp on it. He slowly unbuttoned his overcoat and took it to the closet and carefully hung it up the way he usually did.

Watching him, Helen grew more and more distressed. "Are you going to continue to ignore me, then?" she asked.

Adam turned toward her. "Why, I'm not ignoring you," he said. "I'm merely hanging up my coat."