and he set off along the corridor.
David! the Brig called softly, and David hesitated and then turned
back.
What is it? he asked.
For a long moment they stared at each other, then abruptly the Brig
shook his head. No, he said. It's nothin&'and watched the tall young
man with the monstrous head turn and walk swiftly towards Debra's room.
His footsteps echoed hollowly along the empty corridor, like the tread
of a man upon the gallows steps.
The morning was warm with a light breeze off the sea. Debra sat in her
chair by the open window, and the warm air wafted the scent of the pine
forests to her.
Resinous and clean-smelling, it mingled with the faint whiff of the sea
and the kelp beds. She felt quiet and deeply contented, even though
David was late this morning. She had spoken to Ruby Friedman when he
made his rounds earlier, and he had teased her and hinted that she would
be able to leave in a week or so, and the knowledge rounded out her
happiness.
The warmth of the morning was drowsy, and she closed her eyes subduing
the strong rich flow of colour into a lulling cocoon of soft shades
which enfolded her, and she lay on the downy edges of sleep.
David found her like that, sitting in the deep chair with her legs
curled sideways under her and her face side-lit by the reflected
sunlight from the window. The turban of white bandages that swathed her
head were crisp and fresh and her gown was white as a bride's, with
cascades of filmy lace.
He stood before her chair studying her with care, her face was pale, but
the dark bruises below her eyes had cleared and the set of her full lips
was serene and peaceful, With infinite tenderness he leaned forward and
laid his open hand against her cheek. She stiffed drowsily, and opened
eyes that were honey brown and flecked with bright flakes of gold. They
were beautiful, and vague, misty and sightless, then suddenly he saw
them change, the look of them was sharp and aware. Her gaze focused,
and steadied. She was looking at him, and seeing him.
Debra was roused from the warm edge of sleep by the touch upon her
cheek, as light as the fall of an autumn leaf. She opened her eyes to
soft golden clouds, then suddenly like the morning wind slashing away
the sea mist, the clouds rolled open and she looked beyond to the
monster's head that swam towards her, a colossal disembodied head that
seemed must arise from the halls of hell itself, a head so riven with
livid lines and set with the bestial, crudely worked features of one of
the dark hosts, that she flung herself back in her chair, cringing away
from the terror of it, and she lifted her hands to her face and she
screamed.
David turned and ran from the room, slamming the door behind him, his
feet pounded down the passage and the Brig heard him coming and stepped
into the corridor.
David! He reached out a hand to him, to hold him back, but David struck
out at him wildly, a blow that caught him in the chest throwing him back
