The body in her arms stirred. She looked down through her tears and saw the small black eyes open. They were slightly crossed, unfocused as they were by the force of the blow. They straightened and Jim mumbled, "What the hell—what the hell—"
Minna's time for talking seemed over. She smiled—a smile hardly perceptible, as though it was for herself alone. "You're all right," she said. "That's good. You're all right."
Jim pushed her roughly away and staggered to his feet. He stood swaying for a moment, his head turning; for all the world like a bull blinded and tormented. Then his eyes focused on Frank.
"You hit me with the goddam phone."
"Yeah—I hit you."
"I'm gonna kill you."
"Look—I made a mistake." Frank picked up the phone and backed against the wall. "I hit you, but you were coming at me. I made a mistake and I'm sorry."
"I'll smash your goddam skull."
"Maybe you will," Frank said grimly. "But you'll work for it. It won't come easy."
A new voice bit across the room. "Cut it out. I'll do the killing. That's what I like best. Everybody quiet down."