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of friends. Some pages were covered with dated notes in Walter’s small handwriting. Others were spotted with pasted pieces of paper on which he had written thoughts at odd moments, sometimes on his typewriter at the office. Other pages held the beginnings of outlines. He turned to the outline he had begun on Dick Jensen and Willie Cross. There were two parallel columns listing Dick’s traits and their complements in Willie Cross’s character.
Dick idealistic and ambitious under a bland, folksy exterior. Admirers Cross and protests that he despises him.
Cross greedy and ostentatious, most of his achievements due to bluff. Afraid of Dick’s potentialities if he gives him free rein.
    Walter remembered another note he had written about them in his memo book, and he went into the bedroom to get it. He felt in the pockets of his jackets for other loose notes, found a piece he had torn out of a newspaper, and a folded envelope on which he had written something. He took them back to his study. The note on Dick said: Lunch of D. and C.D.’s violent resentment of C.’s proposal to freelance for other law firm.
    That was a fertile little note. Cross was also a partner in another firm of legal advisers, Walter had forgotten the precise name. Dick had told Walter all about the offer. It was tempting. Walter wasn’t sure that Dick would resist.
    There was a gentle knock at the door.
    â€œCome in, Claudia,” he said.
    Claudia came in with a tray. She had brought him a chicken sandwich and a beer.
    â€œJust what I need,” Walter said. He uncapped the beer.
    â€œI thought you might be getting kind of hungry. Mrs. Stackhouse said she’s already eaten her lunch. Don’t you want me to open these curtains, Mr. Stackhouse? There’s such a bright sun today.”
    â€œThanks. I forgot them,” Walter said. “Did you have to come today, Claudia? We shouldn’t need any cooking with all that food from the party?”
    â€œMrs. Stackhouse didn’t tell me not to come.”
    Walter watched her tall, thin figure as she opened the long curtains and fastened them back. Claudia was that rare thing, a servant who enjoyed her job and consequently did it to perfection. A lot of people around Benedict had tried to outbid them and buy her away, but Claudia struck with them, in spite of the exacting routine Clara laid down about the running of the house. Claudia lived in Huntington, and came by bus every morning at seven on the dot, left at eleven to baby-sit in Benedict, came back at six and stayed until nine. She couldn’t sleep in, because she took care of her little grandchild, Dean, who lived at home with her in Huntington.
    â€œI’m sorry we ruined your Sunday,” Walter said.
    â€œWhy, Mr. Stackhouse, I don’t mind!” Claudia stood by his desk watching his progress on the sandwich. “Will there be anything else, Mr. Stackhouse?”
    Walter stood up and reached in his pocket. “Yes. I want you to take this—and buy something for Dean.” He handed her a ten-dollar bill.
    â€œTen dollars, Mr. Stackhouse! What can he use for ten dollars?” But Claudia was beaming with pleasure at the gift.
    â€œWell, you think of something,” Walter said.
    â€œI sure do thank you, Mr. Stackhouse. That sure is nice of you,” she said as she went out.
    Walter sipped his beer and opened the newspaper clipping. It was the item he had torn out in Waldo Point.
    BODY OF WOMAN FOUND NEAR TARRYTOWN, N.Y.
    Tarrytown, Aug. 14—The body of a woman identified as Mrs. Helen P. Kimmel, 39, of Newark, N.J., was found in a wooded section about a mile south of Tarrytown, the police of the 3rd Precinct reported today. She died from strangulation and from dozens of savage cuts and blows on face and body. Her pocketbook was found a few yards away from her body, its contents apparently untouched. She had been traveling by bus from Newark to Albany to visit a