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She
opened
the
door
of
her
room
and
went
directly
to
her
desk
where
she
had
suddenly
remembered
leaving
her
wristwatch
.
It
was
there
;
slipping
it
on
she
glanced
down
at
the
daily
letter
to
her
mother
,
finishing
the
last
sentence
in
her
mind
.
Then
,
rather
gradually
,
she
realized
without
turning
about
that
she
was
not
alone
in
the
room
.
In
an
inhabited
room
there
are
refracting
objects
only
half
noticed
:
varnished
wood
,
more
or
less
polished
brass
,
silver
and
ivory
,
and
beyond
these
a
thousand
conveyers
of
light
and
shadow
so
mild
that
one
scarcely
thinks
of
them
as
that
,
the
tops
of
picture
-
frames
,
the
edges
of
pencils
or
ash
-
trays
,
of
crystal
or
china
ornaments
;
the
totality
of
this
refraction
—
appealing
to
equally
subtle
reflexes
of
the
vision
as
well
as
to
those
associational
fragments
in
the
subconscious
that
we
seem
to
hang
on
to
,
as
a
glass
-
fitter
keeps
the
irregularly
shaped
pieces
that
may
do
some
time
—
this
fact
might
account
for
what
Rosemary
afterward
mystically
described
as
"
realizing
"
that
there
was
some
one
in
the
room
,
before
she
could
determine
it
.
But
when
she
did
realize
it
she
turned
swift
in
a
sort
of
ballet
step
and
saw
that
a
dead
Negro
was
stretched
upon
her
bed
.
As
she
cried
"
aaouu
!
"
and
her
still
unfastened
wristwatch
banged
against
the
desk
she
had
the
preposterous
idea
that
it
was
Abe
North
.
Then
she
dashed
for
the
door
and
across
the
hall
.
Dick
was
straightening
up
;
he
had
examined
the
gloves
worn
that
day
and
thrown
them
into
a
pile
of
soiled
gloves
in
a
corner
of
a
trunk
.
He
had
hung
up
coat
and
vest
and
spread
his
shirt
on
another
hanger
—
a
trick
of
his
own
.
"
You
’
ll
wear
a
shirt
that
’
s
a
little
dirty
where
you
won
’
t
wear
a
mussed
shirt
.
"
Nicole
had
come
in
and
was
dumping
one
of
Abe
’
s
extraordinary
ash
-
trays
into
the
waste
-
basket
when
Rosemary
tore
into
the
room
.
"
DICK
!
DICK
!
Come
and
see
!
"
Dick
jogged
across
the
hall
into
her
room
.
He
knelt
to
Peterson
’
s
heart
,
and
felt
the
pulse
—
the
body
was
warm
,
the
face
,
harassed
and
indirect
in
life
,
was
gross
and
bitter
in
death
;
the
box
of
materials
was
held
under
one
arm
but
the
shoe
that
dangled
over
the
bedside
was
bare
of
polish
and
its
sole
was
worn
through
.
By
French
law
Dick
had
no
right
to
touch
the
body
but
he
moved
the
arm
a
little
to
see
something
—
there
was
a
stain
on
the
green
coverlet
,
there
would
be
faint
blood
on
the
blanket
beneath
.
Dick
closed
the
door
and
stood
thinking
;
he
heard
cautious
steps
in
the
corridor
and
then
Nicole
calling
him
by
name
.
Opening
the
door
he
whispered
:
"
Bring
the
couverture
and
top
blanket
from
one
of
our
beds
—
don
’
t
let
any
one
see
you
.
"
Then
,
noticing
the
strained
look
on
her
face
,
he
added
quickly
,
"
Look
here
,
you
mustn
’
t
get
upset
over
this
—
it
’
s
only
some
nigger
scrap
.
"
"
I
want
it
to
be
over
.
"
The
body
,
as
Dick
lifted
it
,
was
light
and
ill
-
nourished
.
He
held
it
so
that
further
hemorrhages
from
the
wound
would
flow
into
the
man
’
s
clothes
.
Laying
it
beside
the
bed
he
stripped
off
the
coverlet
and
top
blanket
and
then
opening
the
door
an
inch
,
listened
—
there
was
a
clank
of
dishes
down
the
hall
followed
by
a
loud
patronizing
"
Mer
-
CI
,
Madame
,
"
but
the
waiter
went
in
the
other
direction
,
toward
the
service
stairway
.
Quickly
Dick
and
Nicole
exchanged
bundles
across
the
corridor
;
after
spreading
this
covering
on
Rosemary
’
s
bed
,
Dick
stood
sweating
in
the
warm
twilight
,
considering
.
