saw the
body of a green man with claws on his feet...." No, that didn't help a
bit. Put it this way: "I'm Ellen Tighe and I'm 27 years old and I'm not
married. Let's face it, any psychiatrist will tell you that's enough
cause for neurosis. So I'm having delusions."

It made more sense that way. I read that story in the paper, Ellen
thought, and it must have registered way down in my subconscious. That
had to be it. Any other way, it was too horrible, too impossible to be
borne.

I'll go back to the apartment and call Dr. Clive, thought Ellen. She had
the feeling, no doubt held over from the days of measles and mumps, that
a doctor could cure anything, even green monsters on the brain.

She drank the last of the coffee and fished in her coin purse for
change. Picking up the check, she walked over to the cash register at
the end of the counter, facing the street. The untidy waitress came from
the back of the restaurant to take the money.

Ellen looked out at the street through the glass front. The man from 410
was standing out there, smoking a cigarette, watching her. When their
eyes met, he abruptly threw away the cigarette and started walking
toward the apartment house. Again she felt that faint dread she had
experienced in the hall earlier.

The waitress picked up her quarter, gave her back a nickel and a dime.
Ellen put the change into her purse, got out her key chain and held it
in her hand while she walked quickly next door. 410 was just ahead of
her in the lobby; he held the front door open for her.

She kept her head down, not looking at his face, and they walked, Indian
file, across the lobby to the elevator. He opened the elevator doors,
too, and she stepped in ahead of him.

* * * * *

When the doors clanged shut, she had a feeling of panic. Alone with him
... cut off from help. He didn't pretend not to know her floor, but
silently pressed the proper button. While the car moved slowly upward,
her heart was beating wildly.

I'm not convinced, she thought, I'm not convinced. I saw it so plainly
... I felt it, cold in my hands.

The elevator stopped. The man held the door open and for a moment she
thought he was going to say something. His free hand made a swift,
involuntary movement as though he were going to catch her arm. She
shrank away, but he stepped back and let her through.

Ellen almost ran down the hall. Behind her, she heard his footsteps
going in the opposit