ssing the ancient rotted pilings of the dwellers who had built their houses there at the edge of the Lake in time long past. Here he was lying stretched out doing nothingprobably for hours and he had the nerve to ask her, What's fordinner? She hesitated, gearing herself for what had to be said. Thank God for the cheque Mum sent on her birthday. Her eyes darting around the room, she spied a public phone booth adozen yards down the hall.
; but even here, in the flickering of the fire, she thought she could see the ominous shadow of the doom that followed him. Instinct warned her to keep her financesconfidential. For a moment Iris didn'tfollow her thinking. Sheheard Bernie whistling in the bathroom.
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