“‘He slipped the chain over her head, and then the two of them walked down the steps to where the car was parked.’”
“‘ He slipped the chain over her head, and then the two of them walked down the steps to where the car was parked.’”
She typed it, then looked around and up at me expectantly. “That’s it,” I said. “You can write The End, I guess.”
Jo hit the RETURN button twice, centered the carriage, and typed The End under the last line of prose, the IBM’s Courier type ball (my favorite) spinning out the letters in their obedient dance.
“What’s the chain he slips over her head?” she asked me.
“You’ll have to read the book to find out.”
