The power of the old gods was certainly nothing for Mark and Edith—a modern, twentieth-century couple—to worry about. After all—everybody dies!chool dance tonight." "That's no excuse for not phoning. He has the old car, hasn't he?" "Yes. You gave him the keys this morning, remember?" "All the more reason he should phone." Dr. Williams lay silent a moment. "Two o'clock is too late for a 17-year-old boy to be out." "I'll speak to him. He won't do it again. Now please, Mark, let me get you the phenobarbital. I'll stay up until David--" * * * * * The ringing phone, a clamor in the darkness, interrupted her. Mark Williams reached for it. The extension was beside his bed. "Hello," he said. And then, although she could not hear the answering voice, she felt him stiffen. And she knew. As well as if she could hear the words she knew, with a mother's instinct for disaster. "Yes," Dr. Williams said. "Yes ... I see ... I understand ... I'll come at once.... Thank you for calling." He slid out of bed before she could stop him. "An emergency call." He spoke quietly. "I have to go." He began to
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