Hers was a small, but beautiful, independent house with a hall-cum-sitting room sufficiently enough to  accommodate a sofa, four chairs, a dining area on the one end and a workplace on the other with a table, a   
chair and a wooden cupboard. Parallel to this, behind, are a well-maintained kitchen, a small storeroom, and two bedrooms. A small backyard covering the length of the house, facing the highway - about 5 meters down, traffic flowing throughout the day. The front consists of a spacious lawn, bisected by a concrete path to the iron-gate.  On the right is the car shed-cum-junk room. A nice place to live in, in the calm and quiet area, away from the hustle-bustle of the city. It's all Luke had inherited from his aged parents, who had to see their last day under a truck on the highway a fifty kilometers away, three years back. Luke led a life of orphan for next two years, looking after his parental business. 

He had a bookstore at the City Square, one of the busiest places in the city. Business was good and he       concentrated on it, to leave aside the thought of calamity that made him almost dumb. He met Rosy in Miami, where he had been on vacation last summer. Soon their acquaintance turned into marriage. Luke loved Rosy very much. He found a new meaning to his life.  He strongly believed that Rosy did not come alone, but with a lot of luck that after marriage his business flourished and he was about to acquire another shop next to his. 

Rosy did not feel tired of being alone, for, she was an ardent, voracious reader of books on any subject, though she had a special liking for thrillers - especially McD'vil thrillers! She used her spare time to write to a few magazines and newspapers. Luke had never told anybody about her past or where she came from and therefore her past remained a mystery. 

"So far nothing has happened", she told herself, without taking her eyes from the book. There is good reason behind it. Whenever she read a McD'vil book, something mysterious would happen. She was anxious what it would be today. 

Someone was knocking at the door.  This time she heard it. "Yeah. Something is going to happen now", her ESP told her. She put the book aside on the sofa, and started toward the door. It was five minutes past twelve. Sun was at its height. She could see through the window the calmness outside. She peeped out of the window,  to see who it was. 

A young man of 22 or 25, with a knapsack and unshaven face, in blue jeans and a black jacket was standing  
there impatiently waiting somebody to open the door. "Who he would be? A burglar? A murderer? Why he is here at this time? Or an innocent person looking for some help?" her thought went zigzag. She was a daredevil, yet a drop of fear somewhere in the depth of her mind sent red signals. Gathering little courage, she opened the door a little enough to see the stranger. 

"What's the matter?" she asked. 

"I'm broke, lady. I need a hundred bucks." His tone was hard, but beseeching. 
 
"Sorry, I don't have that much. May be I can give ten or twenty. But what's the matter with you?" 

"I was out of job and somebody robbed off my wallet this morning. I am now left with no money. If you can  help me out…" he said and stared at Rosy with his glittering eyes, that made her uneasy. 

"How can I trust him? Or why should I trust him? He looks like a drug-peddler. . …" And such thoughts came up and went one by one in her mind. The more she thought, the more dreadful the man became in her mind. Finally she decided to say goodbye and close the door on his face. 

"Sorry, I can't help you. Please go away", she said and was about to close the door, when she heard he telling, as if to nobody: "I may have to repeat what I have done at the next door." 

What he must have done, next door? A murder? Robbery?  May be, he must have some  weapon in his      knapsack.  A lightening of fear went through her. Some mysterious and implacable force occupied her mind.  Her face went pale. Now she desperately wanted to save herself. For the first time she felt the value of life. Life is precious than this world - for everybody.  And the only way left was to give away the money. Life is more precious than money. 

"Wait a minute. I'll give you the money", said she and rushed in. In a few seconds she was back with a 
hundred-dollar bill and gave it to the stranger.  Fear was still alive in her mind.  Yet she was curious to know  what had happened at the next door. She gathered enough strength and asked: "By the by, what did you do to the lady at next door?" 
 
His reply was really taken her aback! What was it?