'Does the legend say what happened after that?'
   Dianne shook her head. 'I don't think the Osages ever found out. But we did.'
   They talked together for a while, as the sun sank over Philadelphia. At last, when it 
began to grow cooler, Sister Clare came out and said that John had to return to bed. 
Tomorrow he was going to begin his therapy sessions.
   John kissed Dianne and Lenny good-bye. As they left, however, another familiar figure 
appeared. Norman Clay, on his own this time, in a shiny gray summer suit and dark 
glasses. He came across to John and held out his hand.
   'I hear you did good,' he said a little hoarsely.
   John nodded. 'Yes, thanks, Norman, I did.'
   I'm leaving Philly tomorrow,' said Norman. 'Got myself a job in Seattle, security 
guard.'
   That's a long way to go.'
   'Well, not really. Thaddeus is always going to be there, wherever I go. You know how 
sensitive I am. I can hear him every night, talking to me just like always, even though 
his armchair's empty.'
   John said, 'I'm sorry, Norman. I'll never forget Thaddeus, never.'
   'We lost him in a good cause, John.'
   John nodded; he wondered for a moment whether any cause was worth losing a man like 
Thaddeus.
   'Come on, Mr.. Woods,' urged Sister Clare. 'We have to be bathed, and then we have to 
get some beauty sleep.'
   'Jawohl, Sister.'
   Norman said, 'I had a letter from Henry Watkins this morning - you know, Kasyx. He's 
some kind of philosophy professor out in California. It was a good letter. He said that 
without Thaddeus, we never could have done what we did, and that as long as he lives, 
there's always going to be some little piece of Thaddeus right inside him someplace.'
   'I'm glad,' said John gently.
   At last they said their good-byes and Sister Clare wheeled John into the hospital. She 
gave him his usual bed-bath, while he closed his eyes and tried to remember those last 
desperate moments in the Byzantine church and the world that was tilted sideways, and 
their fight with the shadow-creature on the roof of the Philadelphia police headquarters.
   Those moments had all been a dream; and now, they seemed like nothing more than a 
dream.
   He watched television for a while. Then he reached up and switched off the light, 
which he still considered a great achievement. He thought of Lenny; and he thought of 
Dianne; and he thought of the tragedies that had led at last to their security and their 
freedom.
   He was on the edge of falling asleep when he heard the door of his room open, and the 
rustling sound of somebody coming in. He opened his eyes, and listened. Then, summoning 
up all the strength and the coordination that he could manage, he raised his head.
   Standing at the end of the bed, white-faced, wearing her bloodstained nightdress, was 
Jennifer.
   'Jennifer?' he whispered. 'Jennifer?' 



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