" "Let me see it," cried Thames, snatching it from him. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. \"Carry your books for you?\" He asked. . There was a strained, eager expression on his face. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. Despite her busy work schedule, Sheila had always been a social person, a talker, a joiner of neighborhood groups, a town council member, a PTA worker, and a thrower of neighborhood coffee klatches. The air was crisp and dry. "It is too late.
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