"Yes." She handed her identification and her check book to him.
While she twisted nervously, he phoned to verify her account.
She could feel Walt creeping up on her. Her skin crawled. The revolving door was motionless.
That meant nothing. He could walk through it.
There was no easy way of telling how he would strike until the last moment. It would be so swift that she would never feel the blow at all.
She stared, fascinated, at the ink well across the room. She imagined it suddenly ripped out and hurled at her. She shivered. She tried to teleport it herself.
It did not move.
Cold sweat began to ooze from her pores. Brakes squealed in the street outside. She ran her hands along the carrying strap of her handbag. Her mouth was dry.
I'm too scared to spit! she thought. I've heard of that. I didn't believe it. It's true.
"For God's sake, hurry!"