Creeping up. Hear 'em?" She stepped to
the light and blew it out. She stepped to the door and turned the key.
"Oh-h!" Jan had fallen backward on the bed and now was rolling from side
to side. His stomach was griping him like a burning hand.
"Hold in for a minute if you can!" she whispered
Nausea uncontrollable, as it seemed to Jan, was taking hold of him when
a knock came on the door. "Sh-h!" she warned, and Jan controlled
himself. He wanted more than ever to vomit, but there came another knock
on the door--and another. And then the knob was turned.
A silence then; and then a voice--a man's voice: "I told you you were
crazy. He felt dizzy and went out into the street for some fresh air.
You shouldn't 've left him once he got the stuff into him. Take a look
round the block. He's probably laying in the gutter somewhere with that
load into him."
The voice stopped, footsteps followed, the stairs creaked. And Jan's
tortured stomach was allowed its relief. And while he retched in the
dark Mrs. Goles held his head and, soaking a towel in the water jar,
bathed his forehead and face and neck, and kept wetting the towel and
bathing his head with the cold water until at last, with a grateful
sigh, Jan stood up and said:
"I think it's all gone now."
"That's good. So I'll be leaving you. And you--" They had been talking
in whispers, but at this point her voice broke into a cough.
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