through a mist of tears she went on smiling - the most wonderful smile I &apos;d ever seen . she whispered , oh , my dear , my dear &amp;hellip; . then she offered me her mouth in complete surrender . maybe she thought she could trust me . maybe she did n&apos;t care . as always , I had to fight the temptation to take what she willingly offered . and it was a lost battle from the start . when she murmured against my lips , hold me tight &amp;hellip; do n&apos;t ever leave me &amp;hellip; I could fight no longer . her body was soft and yielding , her tender hands drew me down into forgetfulness . soon she quickened under my caresses as though the touch of my hands brought to life something that had lain dormant with her until this moment . when I unfastened her coat , she shrugged it off with fierce impatience and then her lips sought mine again . all around us people slept . outside in the windy darkness snow blanketed the sound of distant traffic . our world belonged to Sonia and me - a world created for us alone out of suffering and loneliness and heartbreak . dimly I wondered if this night would spoil all the other nights yet to come . she was n&apos;t just another woman . we &apos;d get married &amp;hellip; and have kids &amp;hellip; and live like other folks . a voice in my head began whining : &amp;hellip; you &apos;re trying to reassure yourself because you know all this has happened before . what kind of mother will she make , anyway ? she &apos;s told you herself what she used to be &amp;hellip; . I called myself a louse . swell husband I &apos;d make ! she trusted me no matter what I &apos;d been &amp;hellip; and I was eaten up with hatred for all the other men she &apos;d given herself to . maybe to her I was no different &amp;hellip; . but to-night was mine . to-night would wipe the slate clean . to-morrow , Sonia and I would be just two people who &apos;d met and fallen in love . I reached out and switched off the light . then I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom . her skin was smooth and cool as velvet , her hunger as great as mine . with a little crooning sound in her throat she drew me close to her . once , she roused and asked in a sleepy whisper , do you love me - really love me ? I said , sure , honey . sure I love you . I meant it , too . but another man lay on the bed beside us . I could hear his sneering laughter as her arms carried me off through the fire of oblivion . I can hear it yet . picking up a cab was n&apos;t easy . but we got one at last . she kissed me good night before she climbed in - a kiss that was just the barest touch of her lips . her eyes were like stars . I &apos;ve never known anyone quite as beautiful as Sonia Rakosi . when the cab was out of sight in the swirling snow I walked back to my rooming house and went upstairs with my head filled with conflicting thoughts . maybe I was too old to fall in love . maybe that was why I had a pain in my mind that would n&apos;t let me decide whether I was happy or sad . as I opened the door I could smell her perfume . in the bedroom there was the scent of the powder she &apos;d used when I left her alone to make up her face and tidy her hair . thinking only made me more confused . so I had a small drink and then I plugged in the coffee percolator . while it was warming up I began remaking the bed . bitter-sweet thoughts kept me company . behind them loomed a shadowy picture of Jakob Kadar , his lumpy face dark with suspicion . everything pointed to him . someone in the organisation was a traitor . that fitted the circumstances better than the idea that Zuck had been followed the day he ordered a music-box from a store on Fifth Avenue . there was nothing against the theory that he had been followed , but it had been done by somebody who knew his normal daily routine , somebody who &apos;d only been waiting for the right moment . if it had not been the music-box , it would &apos;ve been something else . Kadar had had the opportunity . Kadar was the one member who &apos;d left the meeting just before ten o&apos;clock . yet &amp;hellip; he could &apos;ve had no hand in the switching of the valises . that was the last thing he &apos;d have wanted to happen . so it had been chance that saved the organisation . if Rickie Oppenheimer had n&apos;t picked up the wrong valise &amp;hellip; . but Rickie should n&apos;t have been carrying a brief-case that morning . every other time he &apos;d left it in the office at the blue bottle club . Monday night he &apos;d broken a long-standing habit . when he &apos;d got no reply at Schultz &apos;s apartment he &apos;d gone away . some time between then and eight-thirty next morning he &apos;d disposed of twenty thousand dollars . the question was - how ? Zuck had n&apos;t been lying . there had been no money in the substitute valise . which meant that Rickie had given it to someone . and he &apos;d seen only one person that night so far as I knew - Paula . but why give it to her ? I &apos;d finished making the bed by then . as I pushed it back against the wall I heard something drop on the floor . that was when the percolator in the living-room started making bubbling noises . there was nothing on the floor that I could see . I told myself it must &apos;ve fallen down between the bed and the wall . &amp;hellip; was n&apos;t urgent anyway . maybe my cigarette-case &amp;hellip; or Sonia &apos;s powder compact &amp;hellip; . I &apos;d look for it later . so I got up from my hands and knees , went into the living-room and fixed myself a cup of coffee . while I was drinking it I wondered what Peter Rakosi would say when I told him I wanted to marry his daughter . did he know the life she &apos;d lived in Budapest - or was I the only person in whom she &apos;d ever confided ? what difference did it make ? she was n&apos;t that kind of a woman , now . the past was dead . why did I have to go on tormenting myself ? if only I could learn to accept , it would be easy &amp;hellip; . there I had a new thought that drove everything else from my mind . it could n&apos;t have been my cigarette-case that had fallen on the floor . I had it in my pocket . and Sonia had used her powder compact just before she left . I remembered seeing her open it and glance in the mirror for a moment or two before we went out . on stiff , unwilling legs I walked back into the bedroom and got down again on my hands and knees . by the light of a match I saw the thing that had fallen under the bed . it was a small metal box , maybe six inches by four and an inch and a half deep - the kind of box that a well-known maker used for packaging pipe tobacco . they advertised it on television and in all the glossy magazines . every muscle in my body froze so that I could n&apos;t move . I &apos;d never had a box like that : I was n&apos;t a pipe smoker . neither was anyone who &apos;d visited with me in weeks . and it had n&apos;t been in or on my bed that morning . sheer blind terror held me rigid as if I &apos;d been stricken with paralysis . all I could think of was a newspaper report . &amp;hellip; one arm blown off &amp;hellip; his head and the whole of the upper part of his body a shambles &amp;hellip; he had no face ... . the same kind of death had been planned for me . any moment that innocent-looking tobacco box was due to go off . even as I stared at it with my skin crawling it was counting off my last moments . judging from the spot where it lay it had been planted between the underside of the mattress and one of the cross-supports . if I had n&apos;t re-made the bed &amp;hellip; if Sonia and I had n&apos;t made love &amp;hellip; . Sonia . nothing else accounted for the presence of that hellish box . I &apos;d left her alone in the bedroom when we awoke from the brief sleep of exhaustion . &amp;hellip; she &apos;d given herself to me &amp;hellip; then she &apos;d asked me to leave her so that she could dress and fix her hair . while I was in the living-room she &apos;d had time to plant the booby-trap &amp;hellip; . that &apos;s how it had to be . behind all the kissing and caressing she &apos;d been planning my death . I &apos;d become a menace that had to be removed . so she had appointed herself my executioner . then the match went out . I could still see the small metal box under the bed . if I &apos;d had the power of movement I could &apos;ve reached out and touched it . but I &apos;d lost the will to do anything but kneel there and sweat , my bones like rubber , my wits gyrating like a carousel inside my head . &amp;hellip; if I got up and ran people would be burned to death in their sleep when the thing went off &amp;hellip; . the old building would blaze like tinder . maybe I &apos;d have time to rouse everybody and get them out before it was too late &amp;hellip; but not if they put up an argument , not if they refused to believe me and demanded explanations &amp;hellip; . how long would it be before the bomb detonated ? my watch said the time was a few minutes off midnight . whoever had set the fuse would have had to allow for the possibility that I might come home late . so much depended on how long Sonia Rakosi had waited for me to return . she had n&apos;t been in any hurry to leave . so there must &apos;ve been an ample time allowance . probably it was meant to explode at three or four o&apos;clock in the morning when they could be sure I was in bed and asleep . but there was always the chance that I was wrong . any way I looked at it I had to take that chance . with sweat on my hands I groped under the bed and took hold of the metal box . slowly and stiffly I stood up and walked into the living-room . I &apos;ve never been so scared in all my life . putting on my coat meant transferring the box from one hand to the other . I wondered stupidly what would happen if I dropped it . maybe nothing . maybe it did n&apos;t matter . if I &apos;d miscalculated nothing mattered . I left the light on and went out and down the stairs , the box held in both hands . outside it was blowing a blizzard . I had to watch where I put my feet in case I fell . I had to force myself to think . the one thing I knew with absolute certainty was that I had to keep going . the streets were empty . snow blanketed everything beyond a few yards ahead . with the metal box hugged against my chest I went on . my hands became numbed with cold and I had only a vague idea where I was . somewhere a clock struck the hour . by then I was in a daze . time no longer counted , time existed only inside the thing I carried . above the noise of the wind I thought I could hear the ticking of a clock . it grew louder and louder with every step I took . chapter 12 . even now I do n&apos;t know where I thought I was going or what I meant to do when I got there . all I remember is walking on and on , seeking a place where I could rid myself of the metal box - a place that I knew only too well I might never reach . to leave the time bomb lying in the street was one thing I could n&apos;t do . it had been created for me . no one else must die because I &apos;d been a fool . no innocent passer-by must pay the price of my stupidity . so I walked on in my own private hell , listening to the ticking noise that I knew was inside my head , cringing in my stomach from the holocaust that the metal box might unleash at any moment . 