〃Do you mean Mr。 Trent or — 〃
〃I mean Mr。 Ullman。〃
〃I believe Mr。 Ullman is busy； but if you would like me to check — 〃
〃I would。 Tell him it's Jack Torrance calling from Colorado。〃
〃One moment； please。〃 She put him on hold。
Jack's dislike for that cheap； self…important little prick Ullman came
flooding back。 He took one of the Excedrins from the counter； regarded it for a
moment； then put it into his mouth and began to chew it； slowly and with relish。
The taste flooded back like memory； making his saliva squirt in mingled pleasure
and unhappiness。 A dry； bitter taste； but a pelling one。 He swallowed with a
grimace。 Chewing aspirin had been a habit with him in his drinking days； he
hadn't done it at all since then。 But when your headache was bad enough； a
hangover headache or one like this one； chewing them seemed to make them get to
work quicker。 He had read somewhere that chewing aspirin could bee addictive。
Where had he read that； anyway？ Frowning； he tried to think。 And then Ullman
came on the line。
〃Torrance？ What's the trouble？〃
〃No trouble；〃 he said。 〃The boiler's okay and I haven't even gotten around to
murdering my wife yet。 I'm saving that until after the holidays； when things get
dull。〃
〃Very funny。 Why are you calling？ I'm a busy — 〃
〃Busy man； yes； I understand that。 I'm calling about some things that you
didn't tell me during your history of the Overlooks great and honorable past。
Like how Horace Derwent sold it to a bunch of Las Vegas sharpies who dealt it
through so many dummy corporations that not even the IRS knew who really owned
it。 About how they waited until the time was rig