“Excuse me…” Juditopped. Sigeristic flutter of tor is already out on a call— be ed my dressing go up and dourned into passages and corridors, arrived back on t in a part of t seen before. Finally o a series of rooms t I took to be Miss inter’s private suite. e paused before a closed door, and Juditroubled look. I ood y, from beerrupted by jagged gasps for breat in.

    I onised so! Unlike t of ts overstuffed upery, lavisapestries, ttle room. ter, tuffed ood a narroe covers. At tain ting t in. Slumped over a plain little sco me, er. Gone were  purple. Se long-sleeved chemise, and she was weeping.

    A onal scraping of air over vocal cords. Jarring  veered into frigorso sraveled to o ed against top. Judito replace a cuser’s temple; Miss inter, utterly possessed by t to knohere.

    ‘I’ve never seen o e of panic, ”I don’t knoo do.“

    Miss inter’s moutorted into oo big for it.

    ‘It’s all rigo Judit er.

    ‘o  on ation. ”It’s all rig  my o my fat I kne will pass.“

    t stop, nor t t. Sime betake in desperate, shs of air.

    ‘You’re not alone. I’m h you.“

    Eventually s. to my couc my ribs I could feel tle flutters of breatender convulsions in her lungs. her hands were very cold in mine.

    ‘there now.“

    e sat in silence for minutes. I pulled t more o rub some o  of  he desk.

    ‘ried to say something? Again her lips moved.

    ty catc er y catc seems a brutal question no at time,  flood of tears  all etiquette aness did no