The black rage of a gentle soul driven beyond endurance overwhelmed her. Her arm rose of its own volition. Derwood, his fists balled, lunged, Betty swung. The jagged edge of the maimed bedpost obliterated his sneer. All his calculated evils lent strength to her small body, she swung again and again, and again past caring where her blows landed. Then as he'd planned, she ran away. He lay ominously still amidst her ruined bed. She ran blindly down the spiral staircase and out the door, down Feder Street across 2nd Avenue and onto Main. She stumbled over a broken curb and cursed the town council...