course nothing was right, except one thing; and that was whatever held her to me.
"Margaret's my name," she told me; and she touched me. They let her; they weren't holding her just then.
"Margaret," I said. "Thanks. I like that name."
Keeban nodded to his normals; and they took, and tied her. Then he, himself, carried her in.
They tied her to the table, much as I had seen they would. They came out and closed the door. He twisted that cock on the pipe; I saw his wrist go around and around.
I stood and stared and waited. There was just one thing that I might try; and it was not yet time for that.
Doris—Margaret—lay on her back, each wrist and each ankle looped to a leg of the table. She lay looking up at the closed ceiling, not moving except for the rise and fall of her bosom with breathing. She had tried her cords and found the uselessness of struggle; so she lay and waited.
I watched her and waited for my moment. I would have known it was not much to wait for, if I had thought it out. But you don't think out affairs like that; when there is only one thing to
