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She
waited
again
.
But
he
still
would
n't
look
up
.
"
First
Charles
Cheswick
and
now
William
Bibbit
!
I
hope
you
're
finally
satisfied
.
Playing
with
human
lives
--
gambling
with
human
lives
--
as
if
you
thought
yourself
to
be
a
God
!
"
She
turned
and
walked
into
the
Nurses
'
Station
and
closed
the
door
behind
her
,
leaving
a
shrill
,
killing-cold
sound
ringing
in
the
tubes
of
light
over
our
heads
.
First
I
had
a
quick
thought
to
try
to
stop
him
,
talk
him
into
taking
what
he
'd
already
won
and
let
her
have
the
last
round
,
but
another
,
bigger
thought
wiped
the
first
thought
away
completely
.
I
suddenly
realized
with
a
crystal
certainty
that
neither
I
nor
any
of
the
half-score
of
us
could
stop
him
.
That
Harding
's
arguing
or
my
grabbing
him
from
behind
,
or
old
Colonel
Matterson
's
teaching
or
Scanlon
's
griping
,
or
all
of
us
together
could
n't
rise
up
and
stop
him
.
We
could
n't
stop
him
because
we
were
the
ones
making
him
do
it
.
It
was
n't
the
nurse
that
was
forcing
him
,
it
was
our
need
that
was
making
him
push
himself
slowly
up
from
sitting
,
his
big
hands
driving
down
on
the
leather
chair
arms
,
pushing
him
up
,
rising
and
standing
like
one
of
those
moving-picture
zombies
,
obeying
orders
beamed
at
him
from
forty
masters
.
It
was
us
that
had
been
making
him
go
on
for
weeks
,
keeping
him
standing
long
after
his
feet
and
legs
had
given
out
,
weeks
of
making
him
wink
and
grin
and
laugh
and
go
on
with
his
act
long
after
his
humor
had
been
parched
dry
between
two
electrodes
.
We
made
him
stand
and
hitch
up
his
black
shorts
like
they
were
horsehide
chaps
,
and
push
back
his
cap
with
one
finger
like
it
was
a
ten-gallon
Stetson
,
slow
,
mechanical
gestures
--
and
when
he
walked
across
the
floor
you
could
hear
the
iron
in
his
bare
heels
ring
sparks
out
of
the
tile
.
Only
at
the
last
--
after
he
'd
smashed
through
that
glass
door
,
her
face
swinging
around
,
with
terror
forever
ruining
any
other
look
she
might
ever
try
to
use
again
,
screaming
when
he
grabbed
for
her
and
ripped
her
uniform
all
the
way
down
the
front
,
screaming
again
when
the
two
nippled
circles
started
from
her
chest
and
swelled
out
and
out
,
bigger
than
anybody
had
ever
even
imagined
,
warm
and
pink
in
the
light
--
only
at
the
last
,
after
the
officials
realized
that
the
three
black
boys
were
n't
going
to
do
anything
but
stand
and
watch
and
they
would
have
to
beat
him
off
without
their
help
,
doctors
and
supervisors
and
nurses
prying
those
heavy
red
fingers
out
of
the
white
flesh
of
her
throat
as
if
they
were
her
neck
bones
,
jerking
him
backward
off
of
her
with
a
loud
heave
of
breath
,
only
then
did
he
show
any
sign
that
he
might
be
anything
other
than
a
sane
,
willful
,
dogged
man
performing
a
hard
duty
that
finally
just
had
to
be
done
,
like
it
or
not
.
He
gave
a
cry
.
At
the
last
,
falling
backward
,
his
face
appearing
to
us
for
a
second
upside
down
before
he
was
smothered
on
the
floor
by
a
pile
of
white
uniforms
,
he
let
himself
cry
out
:
