“That’s a stupid procedure. Why don’t you give yourself up?”

“I’d get life. Or the electric chair. Cut it out.”

“They’ll catch you sooner or later. You know that.”

“I’m not trying to make any long-range plans,” I said coldly. “They’re after me, and if they get me it’s going to be rugged. I’m operating one minute at a time. When I’ve used up this minute, I’ll start on the next one.”

“And in the meantime you’re going to add a charge of kidnaping to make it worse?”

“It doesn’t get any worse,’ ‘I said.

“So you intend to stay here?”

“That’s right.”

She sighed. “Well, could I get my purse out of the car? Or is that against the rules?”

“We’ll both go get it. That is, if you think you can walk now.”

“I’m all right. Except I’ve got a splitting headache.” She slipped her shoes on and stood up. She seemed to be steady enough. We went out through the kitchen.

“Wait there by the door,” I said. “I’ll get it.” I stepped down into the garage, keeping an eye on her. She made no attempt to run back and get out the front door. I brought the purse in. She drew some water at the tap and swallowed a couple of aspirin she took from the purse. We went back into the living room. I walked over and felt my clothes. The shirt and shorts were fairly dry, but the suit was still soggy. When I looked around she’d gone into the bedroom. Maybe she was trying to get out the window. I ran to the doorway and looked in. She was standing before the mirror of the dresser, calmly touching up her lipstick. She glanced at me inquiringly. “What’s the matter?”

”I thought you might be trying to get out.”

“In that rain? Don’t be silly.” She pressed her lips together, surveyed the result, and dropped the lipstick back in the purse. Then she combed her hair. She was a very smart-looking girl. And spectacular. And about as unflustered as they came.

“You don’t scare easily, do you?”

“Not any more,” she said.