Then suddenly he felt a cold wave of fear wash over him. It was just as if a bodiless voice had whispered a warning in his ear. He became transfixed, more frightened than he had ever been before in his life.
O’Brien had reached the door.
“Wait…” Pete managed to stammer. “I — I don’t think…”
A crash of thunder drowned what he was trying to say, but O’Brien saw the livid fear on his face. He realized Pete was about to say he had changed his mind and he wasn’t going to take a bath.
“Get on with it!” he barked as he stepped into the passage. “I’m not going to stay up all night for you!”
He slammed the door as Pete started to speak again.
“These goddamn punks think they own the earth as soon as you treat them like humans,” O’Brien went on to Conrad, keeping his voice raised. “A bath every night! Who the hell thought up that gag?” While he spoke he leaned his back against the door; his hand holding the door knob. He felt the door knob turn, and by the sudden pressure of the door he knew Pete was trying to open it.
“Hadn’t you better go along and see if the girl’s all right?” he said to Conrad. “The storm may be upsetting her.”
He managed to keep the door closed by exerting his great strength. Pete was pulling at the door handle violently.
“Madge’s there,” Conrad said, busy lighting a cigarette. He didn’t notice O’Brien’s strained, white face. “I’ll go along in a little while.”