A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. It was a bright and beautiful day: so bright, so beautiful, that even her sad heart was cheered by it. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. “You should probably wash all of that stuff off of yourself. Stunning and continuous, the din seemed almost to take away the power of hearing. A bumper round, gentlemen. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. Just now the waterchestnuts…. He shrugged and, to Gerald’s relief, made to leave at last. But he knew. They were sharp and dripping with black blood.
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