CHAPTER I Disabled Car Patricia Morris drove through the countryside idly, but too fast for the time of year. It was late winter, and the road was slippery. Snow still lay damply on the ground and there were ice floes on the lakes. But Patricia was not driving for fun. She was driving in anger and sheer boredom. She was sick and tired of the surroundings of her home. Another person might have liked them—and Patricia had liked them once but, like her life, they now seemed entirely too artificial.