won't ever fit him. He's a lily-livered
lap-dog, and he whines. Bring me my boots, woman."

"Donny!"

"The boots, they're in my locker in the attic. I want them."

"What on earth!"

"Bring me my goddam space boots and put them on my feet. I'm going to
wear them."

"You can't; the priest's coming."

"Well, get them anyway. What time is it? You didn't let me sleep through
the moon-run blast, did you?"

She shook her head. "It's half an hour yet ... I'll get the boots if you
promise not to make me put them on you."

"I want them on."

"You can't, until Father Paul's finished."

"Do I have to get my feet buttered?"

She sighed. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that. I wish you
wouldn't, Donny. It's sacrilege, you know it is."

"All right--'anointed'," he corrected wearily.

"Yes, you do."

"The boots, woman, the boots."

She went to get them. While she was gone, the doorbell rang, and he
heard her quick footsteps on the stairs, and then Father Paul's voice
asking about the patient. Old Donegal groaned inwardly. After the
priest, the doctor would come, at the usual time, to see if he were dead
yet. The doctor had let him come home from the hospital to die, and the
doctor was getting impatient. Why don't they let me alone? he growled.
Why don't they let me handle it in my own way, and stop making a fuss
over it? I can die and do a good job of it without a lot of outside
interference, and I wish they'd quit picking at me with syringes and
sacraments and enemas. All he wanted was a chance to listen to the
orchestra on the Keith terrace, to drink the rest of his whiskey, and to
hear the beast blast-away for the satellite on the first lap of the run
to Luna.

* * * * *

It's going to be my last day, he thought. My eyes are going fuzzy, and I
can't breathe right, and the throbbing's hurting my head. Whether he
lived through the night wouldn't matter, because delirium was coming
over him, and then there would be the coma, and the symbolic fight to
keep him pumping and panting. I'd rather die tonight and get it over
with, he thought, but they probably won't let me go.

He heard their voices coming up the stairs ...

"Nora tried to get them to stop it, Father, but she couldn't get in to
see anybody but the butler. He told her he'd tell Mrs. Keith, but
nothing happened. It's just as loud as before."

"Well, as long as Donny doesn't mind--"

"He just says that. You know ho