She did give something else. and if there is even one chance that My Lady — Ah, but no — it was madness to even think of such a thing. This was a thought he tried consciously to discourage — it was both useless and gruesome — but the thought of life without Misery was so terrible that it sometimes crept up on him and surprised him. it was so Misery-esque it was nearly a caricature, what with motherly old Mrs Ramage dipping snuff in the pantry, Ian and Misery pawing each other like a couple of horny kids just home from the Friday-night high-school dance, and — Now she was the one who looked bewildered.
She was in a room by herself.
He dozed off these days as old men doze off, abruptly and sometimes at inappropriate times, and he slept as old men sleep — which is to say, only separated from the waking world by the thinnest of skins. Sleepy fourth-floor dorm proctor hammering on his door, telling him to come on and answer the fucking phone.