* * * * *

Barbara Noble leaned toward the window, pulled back the curtain a
scant inch, and studied his back as he looked at the windows on the
other side of the front door. Limp yellow hair and a big perspiration
stain in the middle of a dark sport shirt were her chief impressions.
He could be a bona fide salesman working hard at it. She wouldn't let
him in, of course; but she felt a little sorry for him lugging that
big case around in this weather. Then he turned and looked straight at
the window behind which she was hiding, and she let the curtain go
suddenly. Had he seen it move? The buzzer sounded again, imperiously.

Miss Barbara got up stiffly, moved to the big vizer screen in the
nearest corner, and switched it on. The man might have something
interesting and she couldn't get out to shop the way she used to. She
smoothed her lilac housedress and left the room to descend the stairs
to the front door.

In the tiny front hall she hesitated, then opened the door inward
about eight inches. Deftly the man stuck the broad brown toe of his
shoe into the opening and looked down at her. She grinned as she saw
his expression of shock.

She was old, really old. Her sparse white hair was pulled so tightly
into a knob on top of her head that the plentiful wrinkles on her
forehead and around her eyes seemed to run vertically, giving her an
oriental look. The hand she rested on the door jamb was a waxy-white
claw, a blue vein standing up prominently under the skin tight-drawn
over gnarly finger joints. He had probably never seen a woman much
past middle age.

"Well?" Her croak was high and rough.

* * * * *

The young man recovered himself and began his spiel. "Madame, I
represent one of the best-known and most reputable firms in the
country. Our products have received three international medals for
purity and effective performance. They...."

"What are you selling, young man?"

"I have the privilege of being a field representative for Taffeta
Beauty Aids. Please accept this generous ten-ounce bottle of our
Diamond Dew Refreshest Lotion...." He reached into his side pocket and
brought it out, offered it with the most appreciative smile, his 'you
hardly need this' smile.

Her hand did not reach out. "I don't want any. Goodbye!" The door
tightened against his foot.

"But madame," his foot did not budge and his smile became both
engaging and pleading, "