Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. ’ ‘That’s easy. As I hope for mercy, I speak the truth!— let him deny it if he can. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. It was a grand life. My last foster father in Alabama before the Becks was a heavy drug abuser. Lucy was charmed; how peaceful the baby looked. You are my wife now and you belong to me. There was no one to be seen in the great hall. Altogether different. .
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