"What's good about it?" I said.
"Young man, you fell six stories, and all you have is a broken leg and assorted bruises. You ask me what's good about it?"
"You wouldn't understand," I said. "Beat it." Stella's scream still rang in my ears. I twisted, and felt the heavy cast on my left leg. My mood merged and blended with the dull grey of the hospital room.
A nurse came tiptoing in, and smiled blandly when she saw I was awake. "You have some visitors," she said. "Do you want to see them?"
I knew it was the Captain. I hated to face him, but I said, "Let's get it over with."
The Captain loomed in the doorway, backed away, and came in again. And ahead of him walked Stella.
A different Stella—face pale and distorted, eyes registering shock and grief, but alive. But very much alive.
I started to get up, and the nurse placed a firm hand on each shoulder and held me to the bed. "Not so fast, sonny boy," she said.
Captain Marks moved up a chair for Stella. "Jim," she said. Her voice broke.
"I'll tell him," the Captain said. "It seems that Miss Emerson has a sister living in Boston. She didn't know anything about our problem, and she came down this evening for a visit. She had a key to Miss Emerson's apartment, and she walked in just at the right time to play a leading role in Cronus's drama."