Clutch of Morpheus LARRY STERNIG
AT THE DOORWAY WAS OUR of the building that combined the home and laboratory of Dr. Felder, Wayne Randall almost changed his mind. Then he said, “What the devil. Why not?” and rang the bell. It would, he hoped, embark him on a great adventure—an adventure into a strange world he had never known.
A redheaded girl in a white uniform answered the ring. Wayne caught his breath at the fresh, clean beauty of the face framed by the sleek, wavy, auburn hair, at the contrast of that hair with the blue eyes, and at the slim but rounded figure.
Then he was aware that she had spoken, and he flushed slightly at the realization of how hard he must have been staring at her in that moment.
. . .
