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impossible she had slept for such a short time. Wearied as she had been, she had expected to awaken somewhere past noon. She stood up and walked across the floor, cool against her bare feet, to the French doors, slipping on her negligee as she did so. Outside, on the balcony, the air was breathlessly hot, but as yet there was no sun on that side of the building.
    She blinked in the morning light, bright from a harsh blue sky. Directly beneath her the swimming pool, set in the midst of palms and lush semi-tropical plants, gleamed blue-green. Grant had said he was going to drain it today, and it would be nightfall before it would be cleaned and refilled. She decided to take a swim while she could.
    She went inside, closing the doors against the hot, still air, and rummaged in her dresser drawer for a swimming suit. She found one, a backless white lastex that hugged her supple figure as closely as her skin.
    With a pack of cigarets and matches rolled into her towel and a white rubber cap swinging from one hand, she went into the hallway and started down the stairs. But for the ticking of the big clock on the landing, the house was clothed in complete silence.
    She passed the clock on the landing as it bonged eight soft notes. From behind her came the sound of a softly closing door. She did not stop, but went into the hall and through to the living room and out to the patio. Resolutely she kept her mind from the happening of a few hours before. It was over, and as far as she was concerned it was done with.
    Almost gaily she skipped across the patio and deposited her red and white striped towel and cigarets on a folding canvas beach chair. She drew the cap over her head and spent some time tucking her black curls beneath it. She went to the eight foot end of the pool and walked the length of the low diving board. She was poised on the end, flexing her knees to gain limberness, when the patio door leading to the living room closed sharply.
    Idell relaxed and turned. It was Leona. She walked forward with her peculiar, rhythmic gracefulness; a close-fitting green hostess gown enhanced the smooth glide in her walk.
    “Did you sleep well?” she asked.
    Idell smiled faintly. She would have preferred almost anyone to Leona the first thing in the morning. But she was the hostess, officially now, and it was her duty to be pleasant to a guest, to all guests.
    “After a fashion,” she said. “The first attempts were quite unsuccessful.”
    Leona sat in a beach chair, leaned over and took one of Idell’s cigarets from the chair close by. She lit her cigaret carelessly and blew the match out with smoke. “I heard some disturbance,” she said.
    Idell only nodded. There was no point in continuing this. It was beastly hot out here, in spite of the sun not having yet reached the patio. And the water looked too cool and inviting to waste time simply staring at it. She jumped once, hit the edge of the board perfectly and jackknifed into the water. Its coldness cut her flesh thrillingly. After the first shock she opened her eyes and swam downward. She would go down until she reached the bottom of the ladder, climb it and get out. Her arms carried her forward in smooth, swift strokes.
    But she never touched the metal rungs of the ladder. The water was calm before her, and quite light even at that depth. For a moment Idell thought it was an illusion; then she knew differently.
    The face stared at her. Hair streamed out from the sides of its head and moved like the gently writhing snakes on the head of Medusa. The face was colorless beneath the water and contorted hideously, as if by strangulation. The open eyes watched her balefully, unwinkingly. The rest of the body was almost vertically inclined alongside the ladder.
    Idell wanted to scream. She opened her mouth involuntarily, and the rush of water sent her choking and sputtering to the surface. She grasped the sides of the pool, and drew herself to the tiles surrounding the edge. She lay and