That son of a bitch. As if thisexistence were the mirror image of reality, cast in shadows and sharprelief. I don't know what tomake of it, but I believe you saw something. And bethanked God she had a better warning system than he did, or in anotherfive minutes he would have taken her right there without benefit of abed or any other consideration.
She forced herself to her feetand paced the rectangle of pale light that fell from the window onto thecarpet, forcing herself to think, to Ian, forcing the wheels of her mindto turn. If more thanone such force took the field, the whole was commanded by ageneral-in-chief. The building that housed his modest practice sat on the edge of astrip-mail parking lot and had once been a laundromat and dry cleaner's. I mean, hell,his job is at the rink.
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