“There are two things to be done,” he said softly to himself. It was instantly answered by the deep note of St. Naturally it all came out then. If so I shall have to leave. He looked at Hilary and nodded. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. Too many. I suppose it depends on her own state of mind. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly.
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