Inhoudsopgave:
As consciousness returned to him, Thane fought to push aside the thick curtain of nausea and pain which blanketed his mind. Somewhere in the distance a telephone was ringing with evenly spaced insistence, and Thane tried to struggle to his feet to answer it.\u003cP\u003e\nâA minute...jusâ minute,â Thane mumbled thickly.\u003cP\u003e\nHe managed somehow to push himself upward on his elbows. Pain lanced molten shafts of agony into his temples and he groaned, clutching tightly to the cool, hard object in his right hand.\u003cP\u003e\nThe telephone still rang.\u003cP\u003e\nâA minuteââ Thane began.\nAnd then he saw the gun. It was the cool, hard object he clutched in his right hand. Instinctively his fingers released it, and it thudded softly to the thick brown carpet.\u003cP\u003e\nThe ringing of the telephone jarred him again, its clamor not to be denied; and Thane released his grasp on the davenport, taking an unsteady step in the direction of the sound.\nHe almost stumbled over the body.\u003cP\u003e\nThe telephone had stopped ringing.\u003cP\u003e\nThaneâs eyes went to the gun he had dropped. It lay less than a yard from the dead manâs hand. In the terrible silence that was louder than noise, Thane stared ashenly at the body. |