I cannot be intimate—’ stressing the word with a deep look ‘— with one I feel to be a stranger. ‘Go on, Gerald. She drew it out with shaking fingers. Or appeared to do so. Art was everywhere, underfoot in the form of mosaics, overhead in the form of architecture. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. 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. What more was to be done? Frith’s investigations had proved fruitful, and the man was now keeping an eye on Valade. Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently. ” She brought her knees up to her chest, and rocked back and forth like a small child.
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