e； in Jack's death at the scene of
a drunken car accident （a regular vision in the dark two o'clock of Stovington
mornings）； and occasionally in daydreams of being discovered by another man； a
soap opera Galahad who would sweep Danny and her onto the saddle of his snow…
white charger and take them away。 But she had never envisioned herself prowling
halls and staircases like a nervous felon； with a knife clasped in one hand to
use against Jack。
A wave of despair struck through her at the thought and she had to stop
halfway down the stairs and hold the railing； afraid her knees would buckle。
（Admit it。 It isn't just Jack； he's just the one solid thing in all of this
you can hang the other things on； the things you can't believe and yet are being
forced to believe； that thing about the hedges； the party favor in the elevator；
the mask）
She tried to stop the thought but it was too late。
（and the voices。）
Because from time to time it had not seemed that there was a solitary crazy
man below them； shouting at and holding conversations with the phantoms in his
own crumbling mind。 From time to time； like a radio signal fading in and out；
she had heard — or thought she had — other voices； and music； and laughter。 At one
moment she would hear Jack holding a conversation with someone named Grady （the
name was vaguely familiar to her but she made no actual connection）； making
statements and asking questions into silence； yet speaking loudly； as if to make
himself heard over a steady background racket。 And then； eerily； other sounds
would be there； seeming to slip into places — a dance band； people clapping； a man
with