The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. ” She realized it was possible to be sorry for him—acutely sorry for the situation. This intercourse, which had been planned to warm Ann Veronica to a familiar affection with Ramage, was certainly warming Ramage to a constantly deepening interest in Ann Veronica. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. The next moment he was by her side. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. It would hurt no one. Forgetting the dark thoughts of his last brush with the girl, he dropped the dagger back in his pocket, quickened his pace, and went back into the house to look for his hostess. And she found herself able to do nothing of the sort. .
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