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Four
"You’reapieceofwork,aren’tyou?"
Hesaidnothing.Shewalkedbacktowardthedoor."Well,"shesaid."Comeon.I’lltakeusin."Doorputherlefthandontheboarded-updoor,andwithherrighthandshetookthemarquis’shugebrownhand.Hertinyfingerstwinedintohislargerones.Sheclosedhereyes.
...somethingwhisperedandshiveredandchanged...
...andthedoorcollapsedintodarkness.
Thememorywasfresh,onlyafewdaysold:DoormovedthroughtheHouseWithoutDoorscalling"I’mhome,"and"Hello?"Sheslippedfromtheanteroomtothediningroom,tothelibrary,tothedrawingroom;nooneanswered.Shemovedtoanotherroom.
TheswimmingpoolwasanindoorVictorianstructure,constructedofmarbleandofcastiron.Herfatherhadfounditwhenhewasyounger,abandonedandabouttobedemolished,andhehadwovenitintothefabricoftheHouseWithoutDoors.Perhapsintheworldoutside,inLondonAbove,theroomhadlongbeendestroyedandforgotten.Doorhadnoideawhereanyoftheroomsofherhousewere,physically.Hergrandfatherhadconstructedthehouse,takingaroomfromhere,aroomfromthere,allthroughLondon,discreteanddoorless;herfatherhadaddedtoit.
Shewalkedalongthesideoftheoldswimmingpool,pleasedtobehome,puzzledbytheabsenceofherfamily.Andthenshelookeddown.
Therewassomeonefloatinginthewater,trailingtwincloudsofbloodbehindhim,onefromthethroat,onefromthegroin.