She heard the sounds of Rhea scuttling about, and then feeding, brutally. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. “Oh, you can act!” she cried. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. The chain, which had been partially cut through, snapped near the staple. ” “Don’t be foolish,” he said sharply. He had been baptized there. Can it ever be so good again?” Ann Veronica put out a firm hand and squeezed his arm.
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