” “You mean to say,” Anna said slowly, “that you are going to leave your husband?” “Yes. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. Nothing would stop her, and she was prepared to face the consequences. Lucy looked down, noticing that Michelle had left her shoes in the entryway. “There was a keg, hash, LSD, pot, you know, the usual.
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