Alice: I think he suspects something...
We have to be careful... I miss you.

Pete is silent.

Alice: Pete?
Pete: Me, too.

Pete is sitting perched unsteadily on the very edge of his bed. He HEARS a succession of highly-amplified SOUNDS at intervals with eerie stretches of silence: CRICKETS in fractured cadence a distant TELEVISION - a FLY buzzing slowly in the room a MOTH'S wings beating against light bulbs in the ceiling fixture - the washing of DISHES.

Pete's reaction to these sounds is one of petrified confusion.

Pete rides his cycle fast through neighborhoods.

Pete is making desperate love to Sheila in the same room - the same bed, as with Alice.

Pete keeps on - harder - obsessed.

When he comes, he crashes down on Sheila, who wraps her arms around him tight. She doesn't know what is going on with him. Her eyes are open wide as she listens to his frantic breathing.

Bill Dayton: The police called us.
Pete: Yeah? what did they want?
Bill: They wanted to know if we'd had a chance to find out what happened to you the other night. They wanted to know if you remembered anything.

Pete: But I don't remember anything. What did you tell 'em?
Candace Dayton: We saw you that night, Pete.
Bill: You came home. Your friend Sheila brought you here.
Pete: Sheila?
Bill: Yes, there was a man with you... She brought you here... She didn't know what else to do.

Pete: What is this? Why didn't you tell me? What?... I don't remember any of this.

Candace: We know that.
Pete: Who was the man?
Bill: Never saw him before in my life.
Pete: Did you tell the police this?
Bill: We're not saying anything about that night to the police. We should all forget that night.
Pete: What happened to me?

Bill and Candace just stare at Pete.

Pete: Please tell me.
Bill: No.