She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. She peered into the darkness. “You see the pointer?” he asked. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. Probably hadn't. , you know, fair and square.
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