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reverence or not. She wondered, especially at this moment, if that veneration wasn't as much a liability as it was an asset. They expect miracles, and all we can offer is scientific knowledge and some medical skill. There certainly wasn't very much she could do for Paige Thorndyke last night, she concluded sadly.
    "Julie," Hyman said when he had reached the morgue, "Hyman."
    Only someone with Hyman Templeman's standing in the medical community could slip past the hospital bureaucracy so smoothly, Terri thought enviously.
    "My young assistant was on duty last night when they brought in Paige Thorndyke. Yes, yes, tragic. Have you had an opportunity for any preliminary findings?" He listened. "Really?" he said after one point, his eyebrows rising. "That's amazing. Negligible, you say? I know, I know." He listened some more. "It sounds like someone kept in solitary confinement for months." He listened and then looked at Terri while he asked the next question. "Any chemical substances, antibiotics, barbiturates…
    "Okay. Appreciate it. Talk to you soon," he added and returned the receiver to its cradle slowly. Then he lifted his eyes toward Terri again.
    "Normal plasma ascorbic acid level, as you know, is about 1.5 mg. per 100 cc. He couldn't get any reading… nothing."
    "Low levels may sometimes be found in nonscorbutic patients," Terri said softly. "But nothing?"
    "Right, and she had no reading in the white cell-platelet layer. She had epistaxis, conjunctival, retinal, cerebral, gastrointestinal, and genitourinary bleeding… all of it," he emphasized. "There's no doubt; this was a severe case of scurvy. It's actually one for the record books."
    "What a freaky death for a young, affluent woman in the twenty-first century," Terri said, more to herself than to Hyman.
    "She had sexual intercourse right before she was brought in," he added.
    Terri raised her eyebrows just as Hyman's intercom buzzed.
    "Yes, Elaine?"
    "Mr. and Mrs. Thorndyke are here to see Dr. Barnard," the receptionist said, her voice cracking with emotion. Elaine Wolf had been with Dr. Templeman nearly as long as he had been practicing. Some older patients considered her evaluation of their condition as good as a preliminary examination. She was a fountain of information when it came to knowledge about families in the community. She asked questions with the forcefulness of a homicide detective and knew if someone came in with bad bronchitis, there were good chances this or that close relative wouldn't be far behind.
    "Show them in," Hyman said. He sat back.
    "What am I going to tell them?" Terri asked, not disguising the panic in her voice.
    "All you know. What else?"
    There was a knock at the office door, and Terri rose reluctantly to greet the Thorndykes.
    Bradley Thorndyke was still in his pilot's uniform. He was a tall, handsome man in his early fifties with light brown hair and a light complexion that usually gave him a youthful appearance. Now, the weight of mourning and the personal tragedy had added years quickly. His eyes were dark; his skin pale, his shoulders slumped.
    Geena Thorndyke was nearly her husband's height. She was an attractive, long-legged, slim woman with ebony hair and dark brown eyes. She clung to her husband for veritable support, her eyes bloodshot, her lips trembling.
    "Bradley… Geena," Hyman Templeman said, rising. He went to them quickly and shook Bradley's hand and then put his arm around Geena Thorndyke's shoulders and guided her to the brown leather settee. "I'm so sorry," he said.
    "Can you believe this?" Bradley asked. "It makes no sense to us and we couldn't sit at home and wait for something sensible, so we decided to come see the doctor who examined her," he said looking at Terri.
    "We were just discussing it," Hyman said stepping back. "Needless to say, it's one of the most unusual things I've seen or heard since I began practicing medicine."
    Bradley Thorndyke's gaze swung quickly to Terri again. She felt his sorrow, but