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"Claudia," she whispered

Her head throbbed, but it didn't , so different fro the doll with her fingers al its soft silken hair, its stiff starched little dress The clock chih the rooet up somehow She must take the little book and the doll and the rosary and leave

The eht behind them Rules broken Call David, yes, call David now But the phone was ringing At this hour, i And David didn't have any nunore it, but it went on and on ringing All right, answer it!

She kissed the doll's forehead "Be right back, ," she whispered

Where was the damn phone in this flat anyway? In the niche in the hallway, of course She had almost reached it when she saw the ith the frayed end, curled around it It wasn't connected She could see it wasn't connected Yet it was r

inging, she could hear it, and it was no auditory hallucination, the thing was giving one shrill pulse after another! And the oil lamps! My God, there were no oil lamps in this fiat!

All right, you've seen things like this before Don't panic, for the love of God Think! What should you do? But she was about to screa! If you panic, you will lose control utterly You must turn off these lamps, stop this phone! But the la room at the end of the hall-the furniture's not real! The flicker of the fire, not real! And the personin there, who is it, a man? Don't look up at him! She reached out and shoved the phone out of the niche so that it fell to the floor The receiver rolled on its back Tiny and thin, a woman's voice came out of it

"Jesse?"

In blind terror, she ran back to the bedrooainst the starched drapery of a four-poster bed Not real Not there Get the doll, the book, the rosary! Stuffing the, she climbed to her feet and ran out of the flat to the back stairway She alarden, the fountain- But you know there's nothing there but weeds There was a wrought-iron gate blocking her path Illusion Go through it! Run!

It was the proverbial nightht in it, the sounds of horses and carriages thudding in her ears as she ran down the cobblestone paveesture stretched over eternity, her hands struggling to get the car keys, to get the door open, and then the car refusing to start

By the ti and her body was drenched with sweat On she drove through the shabby garish don streets towards the freeway Blocked at the on-ramp, she turned her head Back seat e was in her lap; she could feel the hard porcelain head of the doll against her breast She floored it to Baton Rouge

She was sick by the time she reached the hotel She could barely walk to the desk An aspirin, a thermometer Please help me to the elevator

When she woke up eight hours later, it was noon The canvas bag was still in her arms Her temperature was 104 She called David, but the connection was dreadful He called her back; it was still no good Nevertheless she tried to make herself understood The diary, it was Claudia's, absolutely, it confir! And the phone, it wasn't connected, yet she heard the wo when she ran out of the flat The flat had been filled with furniture; there'd been fires in the grates Could they burn down the flat, these la her, but she could barely hear hi, she told him, he must not worry

It was dark when she opened her eyes The pain in her head had woken her up The digital clock on the dresser said ten thirty Thirst, terrible thirst, and the glass by the bed was empty Someone else was in the room

She turned over on her back Light through the thin white curtains Yes, there A child, a little girl She was sitting in the chair against the wall