against the Thing's strength of resistance. And that would be hard.
For the Thing was non-physical. It had no body.
But it was sure to have a heart. She would stab that heart.
So she picked from the buhl table the jeweled Circassian dagger which she had admired the day before in a little shop on Lexington Avenue and which Bunny had given to her—with some very foolish remark, quite typical of him—she remembered. "I wish to God you'd kill yourself with it! Get out of my life—leave me in peace—me and Lottie—"
Lottie was the silly, golden-haired wife.
But when, dagger in hand, Diana took up the chase again, she was disappointed. For the Thing seemed as familiar with the room as she herself. It avoided sliding rugs, sharp-cornered buhl tables, tabourets and chairs placed at odd angles. It never as much as grazed a single one of the many brittle bits of bric-à-brac.
Once it chuckled as if faintly amused at something.
But Diana did not give up heart. She had made
