) He hesitated. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Further on, there were impressions of bloody footsteps along the floor. We WERE thieves. Sheila grabbed the gun and laughed hysterically, brandishing the weapon and baying like a bear. ” Chapter X THE TRAGEDY OF AN APPETITE Anna, notwithstanding her quiet clothes, a figure marvellously out of accord with her surroundings, sat before a small marble-topped table at a crowded A. Anna turned deliberately away from the bedside. I hated the stuff. ” There was a long silence.
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