There were too many kills, too many unsolved files in too many cabinets. . She looked down at him and was amazed to see him erect again, amazed at the incredible virility that he possessed. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. ’ ‘You ain’t never,’ gasped Pottiswick. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. The latter no sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an adjoining room.
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