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I think I passed out for a few seconds at least. When I opened my eyes, he was lying back with his eyes closed and a smirk of contentment on his lips. I groped about for my clothes and, still dizzy, began to dress myself.

"I feel a little queasy," I said suddenly sensing a wave of nausea rising.

His eyes snapped open and then he looked terrified. "Jeeze, you're turning white!"

He jumped up and fetched a garbage can.

"Don't throw up on my furniture," he pleaded. He made it just in time.

"I guess it's all just too much excitement for you," he commented as I groaned.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Hey, I've done it plenty of times," he declared with pride.

My head started to pound. I groaned again and lay back.

"I'll get you a cold rag. Just relax," he said and put one hand on my forehead.

I either passed out again or just fell into an exhausted sleep, for when I opened my eyes, I found the lights were dim and he was sprawled on the other sofa. I glanced at the clock. It was nearly two-thirty in the morning!

"Corbette!" I cried, sitting up. He didn't open his eyes. I put on my shoes and stood up. I did it so quickly, I was dizzy for a moment. As soon as that passed, I went to him and shook him hard.

"Whaaaa." He opened his eyes. "What's the matter?"

"It's nearly two-thirty in the morning. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"It is?" He wiped his eyes and looked at the clock. "Oh yeah, it is."

"It's not funny. I'm sure they're worried about me."

"Why? It's a big night," he said casually. He looked like he wasn't going to get up.

"You've got to take me home right now, Corbette. We missed the cast party, too! This is terrible."

He opened his eyes and smiled.

"Not all of it," he said.

"Take me home, Corbette," I demanded.

"Okay, okay. Jeeze, for a dead wife, you sure are pushy," he quipped, but I wasn't in the mood for any jokes.

He took me over that bumpy back road route again. By the time we arrived at the house, I was feeling nauseous and sick.

"Thanks for a nice time," he said.

"Good night, Corbette."

"'Night," he said without promising to call me. He drove off before I even reached the steps. It was so dark and quiet. It felt ominous as I opened the door. As I started for the stairs, Sissy came out of the kitchen. She was in her robe.

"Why are you still awake, Sissy?" I asked.

"I promised Mrs. Hudson I would be until you came home," she explained.

"And I have a message for you from Mr. Brody," she added. "He waited until about one o'clock!'

"He left?" I asked surprised.