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judged; really not more than a twinkle; a mousy…looking man and his escort;
wearing a faded cloth coat; would e in for dinner and Delores would trade one
of her tables for theirs。 The mousy little man would leave a picture of
Alexander Hamilton under his plate; bad enough for the girl who had made the
trade; but worse; Delores would crow over it。 She was lazy; a goof…off in an
operation run by a man who allowed no goof…offs。 She would sit in a linen
closet; reading a confession magazine and smoking; but whenever Ullman went on
one of his unscheduled prowls (and woe to the girl he caught resting her feet)
he found her working industriously; her magazine hidden under the sheets on a
high shelf; her ashtray tucked safely into her uniform pocket。 Yeah; Hallorann
thought; she'd been a goof…off and a sloven and the other girls had resented
her; but Delores had had that little twinkle。 It had always greased the skids
for her。 But what she had seen in 217 had scared her badly enough so she was
more than glad to pick up the walking papers Ullman had issued her and go。
Why had she e to him? A shine knows a shine; Hallorann thought; grinning at
the pun。
So he had gone up that night and had let himself into the room; which was to
be reoccupied the next day。 He had used the office passkey to get in; and if
Ullman had caught him with that key; he would have joined Delores Vickery on the
unemployment line。
The shower curtain around the tub had been drawn。 He had pushed it back; but
even before he did he'd had a premonition of what he was going to see。 Mrs。
Massey; swollen and purple; lay soggily in the tub; which was half…full of