She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. She turned and looked at the red LED of the alarm clock that read 3:55. . To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. " "By depriving him of 'em, eh! But I'm sorry you hurt his lordship, Terry. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. I wanted to speak to you first. Supposing the wire should break and her head tumble off her shoulders into the street? The whimsey caused another smile to ripple across her lips.
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