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- Стр. 943/1581
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The
fear
went
through
him
in
spasms
,
once
in
a
while
,
leaving
his
mouth
dry
.
He
did
not
know
what
he
dreaded
.
He
knew
that
it
was
not
the
threat
of
the
radio
speaker
.
What
he
had
experienced
at
the
sound
of
the
snarling
voice
had
been
more
like
a
terror
which
he
felt
because
he
was
expected
to
feel
it
,
a
duty
-
terror
,
something
that
went
with
his
position
,
like
well
-
tailored
suits
and
luncheon
speeches
.
But
under
it
,
he
had
felt
a
sneaking
little
hope
,
swift
and
furtive
like
the
course
of
a
cockroach
:
if
that
threat
took
form
,
it
would
solve
everything
,
save
him
from
decision
,
save
him
from
signing
the
letter
.
.
.
he
would
not
be
President
of
Taggart
Transcontinental
any
longer
,
but
neither
would
anyone
else
.
.
.
neither
would
anyone
else
.
.
.
He
sat
,
looking
down
at
his
desk
,
keeping
his
eyes
and
his
mind
out
of
focus
.
It
was
as
if
he
were
immersed
in
a
pool
of
fog
,
struggling
not
to
let
it
reach
the
finality
of
any
form
.
That
which
exists
possesses
identity
;
he
could
keep
it
out
of
existence
by
refusing
to
identify
it
.
He
did
not
examine
the
events
in
Colorado
,
he
did
not
attempt
to
grasp
their
cause
,
he
did
not
consider
their
consequences
.
He
did
not
think
.
The
clogged
ball
of
emotion
was
like
a
physical
weight
in
his
chest
,
filling
his
consciousness
,
releasing
him
from
the
responsibility
of
thought
.
The
ball
was
hatred
—
hatred
as
his
only
answer
,
hatred
as
the
sole
reality
,
hatred
without
object
,
cause
,
beginning
or
end
,
hatred
as
his
claim
against
the
universe
,
as
a
justification
,
as
a
right
,
as
an
absolute
.
The
screaming
of
the
telephones
went
on
through
the
silence
.
He
knew
that
those
pleas
for
help
were
not
addressed
to
him
,
but
to
an
entity
whose
shape
he
had
stolen
.
It
was
this
shape
that
the
screams
were
now
tearing
away
from
him
;
he
felt
as
if
the
ringing
ceased
to
be
sounds
and
became
a
succession
of
slashes
hitting
his
skull
.
The
object
of
the
hatred
began
to
take
form
,
as
if
summoned
by
the
bells
.
The
solid
ball
exploded
within
him
and
flung
him
blindly
into
action
.
Rushing
out
of
the
room
,
in
defiance
of
all
the
faces
around
him
,
he
went
running
down
the
halls
to
the
Operating
Department
and
into
the
anteroom
of
the
Operating
Vice
-
President
’
s
office
.
The
door
to
the
office
was
open
:
he
saw
the
sky
in
the
great
windows
beyond
an
empty
desk
.
Then
he
saw
the
staff
in
the
anteroom
around
him
,
and
the
blond
head
of
Eddie
Willers
in
the
glass
cubbyhole
.
He
walked
purposefully
straight
toward
Eddie
Willers
,
he
flung
the
glass
door
open
and
,
from
the
threshold
,
in
the
sight
and
hearing
of
the
room
,
he
screamed
:
"
Where
is
she
?
"
Eddie
Willers
rose
slowly
to
his
feet
and
stood
looking
at
Taggart
with
an
odd
kind
of
dutiful
curiosity
,
as
if
this
were
one
more
phenomenon
to
observe
among
all
the
unprecedented
things
he
had
observed
.
He
did
not
answer
.
"
Where
is
she
?
"
