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Show 388 formaldehyde, and caged rats perched on benches and racks of test tubes on top of a stained white refrigerator and three or four graduate assistants in white lab coats sitting around eating sandwiches and drinking coffee, their fingers yellow with acid. He heard mutters of conversation through someone's palm, and then the sound turned white again. "I guess she's not here. Who's this? Mark?" "Actually I just wanted to return something and I couldn't reach her at home. Do you know if she's planning on coming in?" "Sure don't." Lorin thought he detected a smirk in the voice. "Maybe I can just come by and leave it on her desk. Which building are you in?" He felt the thrill of closing in. The student gave him the name of the building-Lorin had never heard of it but would find a campus map somewhere-and the room number, and added, "If it's edible I wouldn't leave it here. She'll never see it." Lorin heard a rude guffaw in the distance. He thanked his informant and hung up. He wondered what he ought to do. Make a sandwich, perhaps, and drive up to the university and stake out her building. Hide in the men's room until he heard her footsteps going by in the hallway, if he could remember what they sounded like, and then pop out as if by accident. Wait in the laboratory with her colleagues and see her try to explain him to them when she came in, if she ever did. In the end he bought a sack of corn chips and went back to his room to eat them in bed, because he wanted to think about something. It had occurred to him that his bones had been speaking to him for some time and he had not been listening because he did not like what they were saying. It was time now to lie down quietly and pay attention. He |