Len stared at her in the dimness. "What—?"
She grunted again. "Len, get up. All right. Len, hurry!"
Len fought his way convulsively past a treacherous sheet and staggered up, goose-pimpled and tense. "What's wrong?"
"You'll have to sleep on the couch. The sheets are in the bottom—"
"On that couch? Are you crazy?"
"I can't help it," she said in a small faint voice. "Please don't let's argue. You'll just have to."
"Why?"
"We can't sleep in the same bed," she wailed. "He says it's—oh!—unhygienic!"
