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Show •290 high time I began to grow up. I've got to look after Carlo- I don't understand what he's doing but it's not good." "You mean the rifle," she said. "I should have figured he'd tell you about that too," I said. "You and he are pretty close." We had started moving again and we swung slowly past the door to the dining-room; she tried to pull away but I drew her in tighter. Over her shoulder I saw Adam's Indian seem to nod encouragement; it was only the kitchen lamp swinging back and forth on its cord and giving the dark statue an illusion of movement but I decided to take it as a good omen. "I think Carlo's going to be all right," I said. "He's acting peculiar now but he'll stop. All the same, I wonder what he's trying to do." "To get caught," Morgan said. "He wants more than that, in my opinion. To teach us something, maybe." I kept dancing. My legs were tired and my head spun but I didn't want to stop moving because I had a strong feeling that as long as we danced nothing very bad would happen-calamities and horrors were suspended as long as that old radio played and Morgan and I high-stepped and capered around my father's kitchen. I thought of the vent-pipe that must be carrying the sounds of our dancing |