"No telling what kind of a crazy fool idea he's got. No telling what kind of lies he'd tell about me!"
"He's in trouble, Bud. We ought to—"
"You listen to me! You do what I say! Don't pay any attention to anything he says. If you see him again, you call me!"
"I think I'd better talk to Frank about it, Bud. Have you seen him?"
Bud was on his feet and around the desk. He grabbed her shoulders and began to shake her. Her face drained of color. His nostrils flared white.
"Bud! Bud! What's got into you?"
"Frank's all right!" Bud cried. "Now, get out, get out, GET OUT!" He shoved her away from him. "Get out," he sobbed.
Half dazed, she backed away, opened the door, and disappeared.
Trembling, Bud sank into his chair. It was a long time before his breathing returned to normal. He counted his pulse with intense concentration, feeling it flutter like a wounded bird beneath his finger tips.