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a little longer than it does ordinarily； but they got there。 I may have a few more years； men still live longer than mice； I guess； but Mr。 Jingles's time is just about up。〃
He reached the spool； limped around it； fell over on his side； breathing rapidly （we could see his respiration moving through his gray fur like ripples）； then got up and began to push it gamely back with his nose。 His fur was gray； his gait was unsteady； but the oilspots that were his eyes gleamed as brightly as ever。
〃You think he wanted you to write what you have written；'。； she said。 〃Is that so； Paul？〃
〃Not Mr。 Jingles；〃 I said。 〃Not him but the force that … 〃
〃Why； Paulie！ And Elaine Connelly； too！〃 a voice cried from the open door。 It was loaded with a kind of satiric horror。 〃As I live and breathe！ What in the goodness can you two be doing here？〃
I turned； not at all surprised to see Brad Dolan there in the doorway。 He was grinning as a man only does when he feels he's fooled you right good and proper。 How far down the road had he driven after his shift was over？ Maybe only as far as The Wrangler for a beer or two and maybe a lap…dance before ing back。
〃Get out；〃 Elaine said coldly。 〃Get out right now。'
〃Don't you tell me to get out； you wrinkledy old bitch；〃 he said； still smiling。 〃Maybe you can tell me that up the hill； but you ain't tip the hill now。 This ain't where you're supposed to be。 This is off…limits。 Little love…nest； Paulie？ Is that wh
