‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. Brendon and I returned from the ‘Unusual,’ and found him lying in my room shot through the lungs. Then, if you weren’t looking, he’d get five feet closer. . A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. . ” “Surely,” he protested, “the change is all in favour of your own inclinations. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. She was very excited. He seemed to deliberate.
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