"If any one's to blame, it's me. “Yes,” she answered, looking away. He took the first step toward the stairs, and met the restraining hand of McClintock. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. She pulled his shirt from its tucked belted state and snaked her hands around his waist. One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. " So saying, he violently shut and locked the door.
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