The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. Abruptly she desisted, recoiled, and turned and fled up-stairs. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. The mode of destruction makes no difference. Just as Jack gained the entrance, he heard a man's footstep behind him, and aware that the slightest indiscretion would betray him, he halted, uncertain what to do. Lucy clasped her hands over her ears as it screamed. You see, I’m selfish.
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