As his feet swung down to the concrete floor, he was hyperventilating and becoming nauseous. He staggered and almost tripped over one of the boxes. He leaned on the crib for balance and waited for his giddiness to subside. He managed to reassert his will enough to regain his focus and a portion of his wits. He urgently groped for an idea that would give him some hope of controlling this disastrous situation before it hurdled past in its own accumulating momentum. He surveyed the room while frantically evaluating the slim possibility of escape. He might burst through the door and tear past the girls and up the stairs, or boost himself on boxes and try the casement window. The absence of his clothing made flight through the neighborhood impractical, however, and the girls could still report him to his mother.

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