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The Generator
"Iresign!I’mthrough!Idon’tknowwhattosaytothecountry!Ican’tthink!Iwon’ttry!It’snouse!
Icouldn’thelpit!You’renotgoingtoblameme!I’veresigned!"Hewavedhisarmsinsomeshapelessgestureoffutilityorfarewell,andranoutoftheroom,"Hehasahide-outallstockedforhimselfinTennessee,"saidTinkyHollowayreflectively,asifhe,too,hadtakenasimilarprecautionandwerenowwonderingwhetherthetimehadcome.
"Hewon’tkeepitforlong,ifhegetsthereatall,"saidMouch."Withthegangsofraidersandthestateoftransportation—"Hespreadhishandsanddidnotfinish.
Sheknewwhatthoughtswerefillingthepause;sheknewthatnomatterwhatprivateescapesthesemenhadonceprovidedforthemselves,theywerenowgraspingthefactthatallofthemweretrapped.
Sheobservedthattherewasnoterrorintheirfaces;shesawhintsofit,butitlookedlikeaperfunctoryterror.Theirexpressionsrangedfromblankapathytotherelievedlookofcheatswhohadbelievedthatthegamecouldendnootherwayandweremakingnoefforttocontestitorregretit—tothepetulantblindnessofLawson,whorefusedtobeconsciousofanything—tothepeculiarintensityofJim,whosefacesuggestedasecretsmile.
"Well?Well?"Dr.Ferriswasaskingimpatiently,withthecracklingenergyofamanwhofeelsathomeinaworldofhysteria.