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第68部分（第3页）

Wendy　thought　she　had　heard　a　loud　banging　noise；　as　if　he　had　fallen　down　or

pushed　a　door　violently　open。　Since　eightthirty　or　so　—　three　and　a　half　hours

now　—　there　had　been　only　silence。

She　went　down　the　short　hall；　turned　into　the　main　first　floor　corridor；　and

went　to　the　stairs。　She　stood　on　the　firstfloor　landing　looking　down　into　the

lobby。　It　appeared　deserted；　but　the　gray　and　snowy　day　had　left　much　of　the

long　room　in　shadow。　Danny　could　be　wrong。　Jack　could　be　behind　a　chair　or　couch

。。。　maybe　behind　the　registration　desk　。。。　waiting　for　her　to　e　down。。。

She　wet　her　lips。　〃Jack？〃

No　answer。

Her　hand　found　the　handle　of　the　knife　and　she　began　to　go　down。　She　had　seen

the　end　of　her　marriage　many　times；　in　divorce；　in　Jacks　death　at　the　scene　of

a　drunken　car　accident　（a　regular　vision　in　the　dark　two　oclock　of　Stovington

mornings）；　and　occasionally　in　daydreams　of　being　discovered　by　another　man；　a

soap　opera　Galahad　who　would　sweep　Danny　and　her　onto　the　saddle　of　his　snow…

white　charger　and　take　them　away。　But　she　had　never　envisioned　herself　prowling

halls　and　staircases　like　a　nervous　felon；　with　a　knife　clasped　in　one　hand　to

use　against　Jack。

A　wave　of　despair　struck　through　her　at　the　thought　and　she　had　to　stop

halfway　down　the　stairs　and　hold　the　railing；　afraid　her　knees　would　buckle。

（Admit　it。　It　isnt　just　Jack；　hes　just　the　one　solid　thing　in　all　of　this

you　can　hang　the　other　things　on；　the　things　you　cant　believe　and　yet　are　being

forced　to　believe；　that　thing　about　the　hedges；　the　party　favor　in　the　elevator；

the　mask）

She　tried　to　stop　the　thought　but　it　was　too　late。

（and　the　voices。）

Because　from　time　to　time　it　had　not　seemed　that　there　was　a　solitary　crazy

man　below　them；　shouting　at　and　holding　conversations　with　the　phantoms　in　his

own　crumbling　mind。　From　time　to　time；　like　a　radio　signal　fading　in　and　out；

she　had　heard　—　or　thought　she　had　—　other　voices；　and　music；　and　laughter。　At　one

moment　she　would　hear　Jack　holding　a　conversation　with　someone　named　Grady　（the

name　was　vaguely　familiar　to　her　but　she　made　no　actual　connection）；　making

statements　and　asking　questions　into　silence；　yet　speaking　loudly；　as　if　to　make

himself　heard　over　a　steady　background　racket。　And　then；　eerily；　other　sounds

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