The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. Full as she was of him, it felt good to shower her kill out of her hair. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean. The Vorsack house bore the stamp of Diane in every visible spot. When the bell rang, she lagged behind as was her habit. Not much. They stood back together and stared at it. “Soon she will return. Enough to let her find out a piece of information most urgent.
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