第31部分(第5/7 頁)

o；　they　don't　have　real　butter　here；　of　course　…　on　my　fingers。

〃Go　on　inside　and　wash　your　damned　hands；〃　he　said；　stepping　back　and　taking　another　bite　of　his　Danish。　〃Jesus　Christ。〃

I　went　up　the　steps。　My　legs　were　shaking；　my　heart　pounding　like　an　engine　with　leaky　valves　and　shaky　old　pistons。　As　I　grasped　the　knob　that　would　let　me　into　the　kitchen　…　and　safety　…　Dolan　said：　〃If　you　tell　anyone　I　squeezed　your　po'　old　wrist；　Paulie；　I'll　tell　them　you're　having　delusions。　Onset　of　senile　dementia；　likely。　And　you　know　they'll　believe　me。　If　there　are　bruises；　they'll　think　you　made　them　yourself。〃

Yes。　Those　things　were　true。　And　once　again；　it　could　have　been　Percy　Wetmore　saying　them；　a　Percy　that　had　somehow　stayed　young　and　mean　while　I'd　grown　old　and　brittle。

〃I'm　not　going　to　say　anything　to　anyone；〃　I　mutered。　〃Got　nothing　to　say。〃

〃That's　right；　you　old　sweetie。〃　His　voice　light　and　mocking；　the　voice　of　a　lugoon　（to　use　Percy's　word）　who　thought　he　was　going　to　be　young　forever。　〃And　I'm　going　to　find　out　what　you're　up　to。　I'm　going　to　make　it　my　business。　You　hear？〃

I　heard；　all　right；　but　wouldn't　give　him　the　satisfaction　of　saying　so。　I　went　in；　passed　through　the　kitchen　（I　could　now　smell　eggs　and　sausage　cooking；　but　no　longer　wanted　any）；　and　hung　the　poncho　back　up　on　its　hook。　Then　I　went　upstairs　to　my　room　…　resting　at　every　step；　giving　my　heart　time　to　slow　…　and　gathered　my　writing　materials　together。

I　went　down　to　the　solarium　and　was　just　sitting　at　the　little　table　by　the　windows　when　my　friend　Elaine　poked　her　head　in。　She　looked　tired；　and；　I　thought；　unwell。　She'd　bed　her　hair　out　but　was　still　in　her　robe。　We　old　sweeties　don't　stand　much　on　ceremony；　for　the　most　part；　we　can't　a