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familiarly.
    "Hello, Roger. I haven't seen you all day."
    The rat squeaked at her, and two of the cats stirred uneasily. They were terrified of Roger. They had been taught that he was sacrosanct, but Roger didn't feel the same way about them and they knew that he was capable of royal displeasure if they got in his way.
    Roger the rat was the undisputed head of the household pecking order; his progress through the house resembled that of an emperor, as all creatures fell back before him.
    After a moment Roger left; he obviously had other plans in mind, and had only stopped by to pay his respects. Kate had kept him away from Henry-- whether for Henry's sake, or Roger's, Ellie had no way of knowing. Her face twisted in a grimace that Henry would have described as "cute." She wasn't feeling cute. Kate really was a demon. She had taken an instant dislike to Henry, and her behavior ... 36 Elizabeth Peters Ellie had spoken to her about it, just before dinner; and Kate, appearing contrite, had promised to behave herself. She had then proceeded to encourage Henry to drink too much.
    In all fairness Ellie had to admit that Henry probably would have made a mess of things even if he had been completely sober. He was not sensitive to atmosphere, or to other people's feelings. Though how anyone, drunk or sober, could have been unaware of Kate's outrage ... Some form of mental telepathy must have been in operation, for at that precise moment the telephone by the bed rang. It was Henry.
    He had called, he explained, to see how she was getting along. Ellie started to say that she was getting along fine, except for the rain ... She had no time to say more, since Henry was more concerned with telling her how he was.
    He was not well. The drive back to Washington had been frightful; the weather had been terrible, and Kate had hardly spoken, even in response to his repeated thanks and his praise of her lovely house.
    It was a fairly normal series of petty complaints, to which Ellie had become accustomed, but tonight she found them unusually irritating. And there was something else ... "You sound funny," she said suddenly, interrupting a description of the imbeciles who had been driving the other cars along Route 40 that morning. "Are you sick? Have you caught a cold?"
    "No."
    "Then what's the matter?"
    "Nothing."
    This was so unlike Henry, who usually gave her detailed descriptions of each sneeze from a head cold, that Ellie began to get a horrible suspicion.
    "Henry, something is wrong. What is it?"
    "I have a sort of a--you might call it--well--"
    "A rash?"
    DEVIL-MAY-CARE 37
    "Well, yes. But don't get any crazy ideas, Ellie. I'm very sensitive to certain foods, you know. Maybe the strawberries in the dessert ... " "Damn it! Henry, I warned you, you know I did.
    What did you say? I knew there was something the matter, I've seen that look on Kate's face before, but I didn't understand any of that nonsense about football.
    You must have said something ... " "I don't remember what I said," Henry muttered.
    "You don't?"
    "I mean, I wasn't paying that much attention. It was such a puerile conversation, and I was exhausted from driving and from those repulsive dogs jumping all over me--"
    His voice was rising; it always did when he got panicky or offended.
    "You drank too much," Ellie said coldly. "Alan Grant didn't help; he was trying to heckle Kate, he always does, and he didn't mind using you to annoy her. All that stuff about Tarkington and United--" "Tarkenton and Unitas," Henry said. His voice was quite shrill. "Oh, God, yes; we did talk about quarterbacks.
    But I remembered what you said. I saw the trap; I did not claim that Francis Tarkenton was the greatest quarterback of all time. I remembered what you said about Sonny--"
    "But that wasn't the name," Ellie interrupted.
    "That wasn't what you said. It was some other name.
    Billy something."
    There was a long pause. She could hear Henry breathing heavily.
    "Not Billy Kilmer?" he said after a