the lobby or the elevator and, except on rare occasions like last night,
the halls were as silent as those in the swanky apartment houses on Nob
Hill.

She knew by sight only two of her neighbors--the short, stocky young man
who lived in 410, and Mrs. Moffatt, in 404. Mrs. Moffatt was the essence
of lavender and old lace, and the young man--he was all right, really;
you couldn't honestly say he was shady-looking.

* * * * *

On this particular morning, the man from 410 was waiting for the
elevator when Ellen came out to get her paper. He glanced up at the
sound of the door and stared. Quickly, she shut the door again. She
didn't like the way he looked at her. She was wearing a housecoat over
her nightgown, and a scarf wrapped around her head to cover the
bobbypins--a costume as unrevealing as a nun's--but she felt as though
he had invaded her privacy with his stare, like surprising her in the
bathtub.

She waited until she heard the elevator start down before opening her
door again. The boy must have aimed from the stairs; her paper was
several yards down the hall, almost in front of 404. She went down to
get it.

Mrs. Moffatt must have heard Ellen's footsteps in the hall. An old lady
with a small income (from her late husband, as she had explained to
Ellen) and little to do, she was intensely interested in her neighbors.
She opened the door of her apartment and peered out. Her thin white hair
was done up in tight kid curlers. With her round faded-blue eyes and
round wrinkled-apple cheeks, she looked like an inquisitive aged baby.

"Good morning," said Ellen pleasantly.

"Good morning, my dear," the old lady answered. "You're up early for a
Saturday."

"Well, I thought I might as well get up and start my house-cleaning. I
didn't sleep a wink after four o'clock this morning anyway. Did you hear
all that racket in the hall?"

"Why, no, I didn't." The old lady sounded disappointed. "I don't see how
I missed it. I guess because I went to bed so late. My nephews--you've
seen them, haven't you?--They're such nice boys. They took me to a movie
last night."

"Well, I'm surprised you didn't hear it," said Ellen. "Thumping and
scratching, like somebody was dragging a rake along the floor. I just
couldn't get back to sleep."

The old lady clicked her tongue. "I'll bet somebody came home drunk.
Isn't that terrible? I wonder who it was."

"I don't know," said Ellen, "but it was certai