By then I was beginning to think a little. If I had a rope, I might
get it over him. Only I didn't have a rope. And I might fail on the
first try--in which case there probably would not be a second chance.
If I could distract him for a bit, I still might grab him. Only, if
there was any slip-up about that--he'd dive the sixteen floors. Well,
then--what did you try to remind them of? How bright they were? How
young? Or did you keep taunting them until they either went, or gave
up? It looked as if that last wasn't right for Paul.
My phone rang.
"Mr. Wylie? This is Mr. Harrison--at the desk." He sounded upset. He's
a nice guy--the assistant manager.