’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. He addressed the boy as Jay. She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back. He declined to come in. There are certain smells, certain tinges to the air. A simple wooden monument was placed over the grave, but without any name or date. He’s dead. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. You are without sense and not sympathique in the least. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. Yesterday this glorious creature had loved him; to-day she was only friendly.
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