wider； the pruned sticks looked sharp and vicious。
And now he fancied he could see faint eye indentations in the greenery as well。
Looking at him。
Why do they have to be trimmed？ he thought hysterically。 They're perfect。
Another soft sound。 He involuntarily backed up a step when he looked at the
lions。 One of the two on the right seemed to have drawn slightly ahead of the
other。 Its head was lowered。 One paw had stolen almost all the way to the low
fence。 Dear God； what next？
（next it leaps over and gobbles you up like something in an evil nursery
fable）
It was like that game they had played when they were kids； red light。 One
person was 〃it；〃 and while he turned his back and counted to ten； the other
players crept forward。 When 〃it〃 got to ten； he whirled around and if he caught
anyone moving； they were out of the game。 The others remained frozen in statue
postures until 〃it〃 turned his back and counted again。 They got closer and
closer； and at last； somewhere between five and ten； you would feel a hand on
your back。。。
Gravel rattled on the path。
He jerked his head around to look at the dog and it was halfway down the
pathway； just behind the lions now； its mouth wide and yawning。 Before； it had
only been a hedge clipped in the general shape of a dog； something that lost all
definition when you got up close to it。 But now Jack could see that it had been
clipped to look like a German shepherd； and shepherds could be mean。 You could
train shepherds to kill。
A low rustling sound。
The lion on the left had advanced all the way to the fence now； its muzzle was
touching the boards。 It seemed to be