st； her head down； her blond hair coiled on and over
the banister。 Air whistled painfully through her throat； as if it had grown
barbs。 Her right side was a swollen； hot mass。
（e on Wendy e on old girl get a locked door behind you and then look at
the damage thirteen more to go not so bad。 And when you get to the upstairs
corridor you can crawl。 I give my permission。）
She drew in as much breath as her broken ribs would allow and half…pulled；
half…fell up another riser。 And another。
She was on the ninth； almost halfway up； when Jack's voice came from behind
and below her。 He said thickly： 〃You bitch。 You killed me。〃
Terror as black as midnight swept through her。 She looked over her shoulder
and saw Jack getting slowly to his feet。
His back was bowed over； and she could see the handle of the kitchen knife
sticking out of it。 His eyes seemed to have contracted； almost to have lost
themselves in the pale； sagging folds of the skin around them。 He was grasping
the roque mallet loosely in his left hand。 The end of it was bloody。 A scrap of
her pink terrycloth robe stuck almost in the center。
〃I'll give you your medicine；〃 he whispered； and began to stagger toward the
stairs。
Whimpering with fear； she began to pull herself upward again。 Ten steps； a
dozen； a baker's dozen。 But still the first…floor hallway looked as far above
her as an unattainable mountain peak。 She was panting now； her side shrieking in
protest。 Her hair swung wildly back and forth in front of her face。 Sweat stung
her eyes。 The ticking of the domed clock in the ballroom seemed to fill her
cars； and counterpointing it； Jack's panting； agonized