Paul's adopted daughter, Teddy, spent last night in her old room adjoining Paul's studio at the top of the family home. When she awoke this morning, she lay a long time gazing fondly around the room. Nothing was changed, and it was still Teddy's room. The mellowed wood of the walls, the familiar darkened spot in the corner of the ceiling where the roof had leaked one winter so long ago. The pictures. Everything was the same - except Teddy Barbour herself...