"You're supposed to."
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? I wonder if it isn't that you don't want him to come out while you're standing so close."
"Why not?"
"Maybe you're afraid of him."
Larry laughed. He put the clock back on the wall and gingerly removed his thumb. When Doris wasn't looking he examined his thumb.
There was still a trace of the nick cut out of the soft part of it. Who—or what—had pecked at him?
One Saturday morning, when Larry was down at the office working over some important special accounts, Bob Chambers came to the front porch and rang the bell.
Doris was taking a quick shower. She dried herself and slipped into her robe. When she opened the door Bob stepped inside, grinning.
"Hi," he said, looking around.