If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. He recognised this object at once. Ever since the young police officer had arrived on her doorstep the clock had started ticking faster. She waited for him to leave the room, and turned back to Gerald. ’ ‘It will give me the greatest of pleasure,’ Gerald said at once, making an elegant leg. Well, you shall know. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. —BRENDON.
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