In a panic, Anita Bonsal looked through the apartment. There were all too many signs of her occupancy—nightgowns, lingerie, shoes, stockings, hats, even toothbrushes and her favorite tooth paste.

Anita Bonsal turned back toward the door and quietly left the apartment. She paused in the hallway, making certain there was no one in the corridor. This time she didn’t take the elevator, but walked down the fire stairs, and returned to her own apartment. . . .

Fay Allison had been listening to the radio. She jumped up as Anita entered.

“Oh, Anita, I’m so glad! I thought you wouldn’t be in until real late. What happened? It hasn’t been a half-hour.”

“I developed a beastly headache,” Anita said. “My escort was a trifle intoxicated, so I slapped his face and came home. I’d like to sit up and have you tell me about your plans, but I do have a headache, and you must get a good night’s sleep tonight. You’ll need to be looking your best tomorrow.”

Fay laughed. “I don’t want to waste time sleeping. Not when I’m so happy.”

“Nevertheless,” Anita said firmly, “we’re going to get to bed early. Let’s put on pajamas and have some hot chocolate. Then we’ll sit in front of the electric heater and talk for just exactly twenty minutes.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you came back!” Fay said.

“I’ll fix the drink,” Anita told her. “I’m going to make your chocolate sweet tonight. You can start worrying about your figure tomorrow.”

She went to the kitchen, opened her purse, took out a bottle of barbiturate tablets, emptied a good half of the pills into a cup, carefully ground them up into powder, and added hot water until they were dissolved.

When she returned to the living-room, carrying the two steaming cups of chocolate frothy with melted marshmallows floating on top, Fay Allison was in her pajamas.

Anita Bonsal raised her cup. “Here’s to happiness, darling.”

After they had finished the first cup of chocolate, Anita talked Fay into another cup, then let Fay discuss her plans until drowsiness made the words thick, the sentences detached.

“Anita, I’m so sleepy all of a sudden. I guess it’s the reaction from having been so keyed up. I. . . darling, it’s all right if I. . . You don’t care if I. . . .”

“Not at all, dear,” Anita said, and helped Fay into bed, tucking her in carefully. Then she gave the situation careful consideration.