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The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. ’ Gerald could not suppress a grin. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. I guess she used to pick on her for being big and fat. Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. Here he was almost stunned by the deafening clamour resounding on all sides. It was decrepit and too large. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. Life is a patchwork of impressions, of vanishing personalities.
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