and then dropped her with a sickening
elevator plunge。 Hallorann's stomach did a queasy hornpipe。 Several people — not
all women by any means — screamed。
〃 — that we'll see you again on another TWA flight real soon。〃
〃Not bloody likely；〃 someone behind Hallorann said。
〃So silly；〃 the sharp…faced woman next to Hallorann remarked； putting a
matchbook cover into her book and shutting it as the plane began to descend。
〃When one has seen the horrors of a dirty little war 。。。 as you have 。。。 or
sensed the degrading immorality of CIA dollar…diplomacy intervention 。。。 as I
have 。。。 a rough landing pales into insignificance。 Am I right； Mr。 Hallorann？ 〃
〃As rain； ma'am；〃 he said； and looked bleakly out into the wildly blowing
snow。
〃How is your steel plate reacting to all of this； if I might inquire？〃
〃Oh； my head's fine；〃 Hallorann said。 〃It's just my stomach that's a mite
queasy。〃
〃A shame。〃 She reopened her book。
As they descended through the impenetrable clouds of snow； Hallorann thought
of a crash that had occurred at Boston's Logan Airport a few years ago。 The
conditions had been similar； only fog instead of snow had reduced visibility to
zero。 The plane had caught its undercarriage on a retaining wall near the end of
the landing strip。 What had been left of the eighty…nine people aboard hadn't
looked much different from a Hamburger Helper casserole。
He wouldn't mind so much if it was just himself。 He was pretty much alone in
the world now； and attendance at his funeral would be mostly held down to the
people he had worked with and that old renegade Masterton； who would at least
drink to him。 But the