” He said wistfully. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. But shortly this movement ceased. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. Well, I don’t think that’s fair. ’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. For when this Joan said it, I had a memory.
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