while others, trying to help corner Algernon, knocked them over.
"Close those back doors!" shouted Burt, who realized Algernon was smart enough to head in that direction.
"Run," I heard myself shout. "The side door!" "He's gone out the side door," someone echoed. "Get him! Get him!" begged Nemur.
The crowd surged out of the Grand Ballroom into the corridor, as Algernon, scampering along the maroon carpeted hallway, led them a merry chase.
Under Louis XIV tables, around potted palms, up stairways, around corners, down stairways, into the main lobby, picking up other people as we went.
Seeing them all running back and forth in the lobby, chasing a white mouse smarter than many of them,
was the funniest thing that had happened in a long time.
"Go ahead, laugh!" snorted Nemur, who nearly bumped into me, "but if we don't find him, the whole experiment is in danger."
I pretended to be looking for Algernon under a waste basket.
"Do you know something?" I said. "You've made a mistake. And after today, maybe it just won't matter at all."
Seconds later, half a dozen women came screaming out of the powder room, skirts clutched frantically around their legs.
"He's in there," someone yelled. But for a moment, the searching crowd was stayed by the handwriting on the wall—Ladies.
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