But they’ve just been to see General Charvill. He misstated her age and address; but you can’t get home on him for a thing like that. “Do something!” But he laid by his prey, half-watching the fight, gorging on the woman he had caught that had been meant for Rhea and her child. A middle-aged countrywoman, plump of cheek, and a little shy. Presently repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it. I’ve wanted you—always. “You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. She waited a few minutes, then greeted the burly doorman who stood as the building’s lone sentry. Wood the carpenter. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors.
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