“That gives us a great deal in common,” he said quickly. “Actually, you see, I was the first experiment in artificial insemination. My mother was brought up very strictly. When Dad tried to make love to her, she would scream and call the police. Every time. It was one of those little quirks that people have sometimes, you know. Anyway, Dad wanted a child in the worst way, so he talked Mums into going with him to see a doctor, Dr. Schleckinger. ‘We want to have a baby,’ Dad said. ‘What can we do?’ The doctor dropped his stethoscope. ‘Are you serious?’ he demanded. ‘Absolutely,’ said Dad. ‘Well, they have got a new thing called sex—’ And you know what? The minute he said the word, Mums slapped him and took a taxi home. Can you imagine that?”

Vy Griffin put the empty coffee cup on the floor.

“But wait. You may not believe this, but they did the whole thing in secret. When Mums got pregnant, she went to a gym to take off weight. Really! No, I’m deadly serious. After it was all over, she was so ashamed she never ventured outside the door. As for me, I developed an overpowering affection for test tubes which lingers to this day. Whence I actually sprang, I didn’t discover until I was seventeen. And who do you suppose it was?”

Mrs. Griffin shrugged.

“Doctor Schleckinger!” He laughed. “All that trouble just because of a basic misunderstanding of a pleasant, simple human pursuit. Now there’s a subject for us! Sex. Are you fer it or agin it?”

Mrs. Griffin stopped smiling.

“Strike the question. It’s irrelevant!” Adam wiped his forehead. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take off my coat. I’m getting rather hot. Aren’t you?” He removed the jacket and walked across the room to the metal closet. On the bureau was a small antique lamp with a shade of tinted shell. “You know, I hope, that that hundred-watt bulb is giving off a lot of heat. Look at the difference.” He walked quickly to the center of the room and pulled the tiny chain connected to the overhead bulb. The room was immediately thrust into blackness. He turned on the shell lamp. It put out a soft, violet glow. “See?” he said.

Mrs. Griffin did not answer. Her breathing was quick and loud.

“Zip, we’re down five degrees, I’ll bet!” Adam walked to the bed and sat down on the edge, then he reached up and touched Mrs. Griffin’s forehead. “You’re not very comfortable, are you?” he said softly, removing his hand.

The woman’s voice was a whisper. “Please,” she said.

“Please what?”

She was quiet.

“You want me to leave?”

She made no sound.