Written by Charles Beaumont

Traumerei

Mr. Ritchie opened the door. "Max—what the devil are you doing up at this hour?" A large man, well built, in his forties, walked in, smiling. "I could ask you the same question," he said, flinging his hat and scarf in the direction of a chair, "but I'm far too thoughtful."They went back into the living room. Mrs. Ritchie looked up, frowned. "O..