and carried them to the workbench.
At the top of the stairs the door opened slowly. Madge peered down, pale and frightened. "Verne?"
He scowled up impatiently. "What do you want?"
Madge came downstairs hesitantly. Behind her Doctor Tyler followed, suave and handsome in his gray suit. "Verne — is everything all right?"
"Did—did you really quit your job?"
Haskel nodded. He began to disassemble the Ink Works, ignoring his wife and Doctor Tyler.
Haskel grunted impatiently. "No time."
Doctor Tyler had begun to look worried. "Do I understand you're too busy for your job?"
"Too busy doing what?" Tyler's voice rose; he was trembling nervously. "Working down here on this town of yours? Changing things?"
"Go away," Haskel muttered. His deft hands were assembling a lovely little Langendorf Bread Factory. He shaped it with loving care, sprayed it with white paint, brushed a gravel walk and shrubs in front of it. He put it aside and began on a park. A big green park. Woodland had always needed a park. It would go in place of the State Street Hotel.
Tyler pulled Madge away from the table, off in a corner of the basement. "Good God." He lit a cigarette shakily. The cigarette flipped out of his hands and rolled away. He ignored it and fumbled for another. "You see? You see what he's doing?"
Madge shook her head mutely. "What is it? I don't—"
"How long has he been working on this? All his life?"
Madge nodded, white-faced. "Yes, all his life."
Tyler's features twisted. "My God, Madge. It's enough to drive you out of your mind. I can hardly believe it. We've got to do something."
"What's happening?" Madge moaned. "What—"
"He's losing himself into it." Tyler's face was a mask of incredulous disbelief. "Faster and faster."
"He's always come down here," Madge faltered. "It's nothing new. He's always wanted to get away."
"Yes. Get away." Tyler shuddered, clenched his fists