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"
I
'm
so
mad
I
could
spit
!
"
What
was
it
all
about
?
Mildred
could
n't
say
.
Who
was
mad
at
whom
?
Mildred
did
n't
quite
know
.
What
were
they
going
to
do
?
Well
,
said
Mildred
,
wait
around
and
see
.
He
had
waited
around
to
see
.
A
great
thunderstorm
of
sound
gushed
from
the
walls
.
Music
bombarded
him
at
such
an
immense
volume
that
his
bones
were
almost
shaken
from
their
tendons
;
he
felt
his
jaw
vibrate
,
his
eyes
wobble
in
his
head
.
He
was
a
victim
of
concussion
.
When
it
was
all
over
he
felt
like
a
man
who
had
been
thrown
from
a
cliff
,
whirled
in
a
centrifuge
and
spat
out
over
a
waterfall
that
fell
and
fell
into
emptiness
and
emptiness
and
never-quite-touched-bottom-never-never-quite-no
not
quite-touched-bottom
...
and
you
fell
so
fast
you
did
n't
touch
the
sides
either
...
never
...
quite
...
touched
...
anything
.
The
thunder
faded
.
The
music
died
.
"
There
,
"
said
Mildred
.
And
it
was
indeed
remarkable
.
Something
had
happened
.
Even
though
the
people
in
the
walls
of
the
room
had
barely
moved
,
and
nothing
had
really
been
settled
,
you
had
the
impression
that
someone
had
turned
on
a
washing-machine
or
sucked
you
up
in
a
gigantic
vacuum
.
You
drowned
in
music
and
pure
cacophony
.
He
came
out
of
the
room
sweating
and
on
the
point
of
collapse
.
Behind
him
,
Mildred
sat
in
her
chair
and
the
voices
went
on
again
:
"
Well
,
everything
will
be
all
right
now
,
"
said
an
"
aunt
.
"
"
Oh
,
do
n't
be
too
sure
,
"
said
a
"
cousin
.
"
