" "There's a funny idea in my head. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. \"So John, are you two lovebirds going to the Junior Prom or what?\" He paused, smirking. Anna and her escort exchanged glances. I made her my unwilling confederate. "I'm dumb. It was you, of course, whom he wanted. But, like all your overbearing sex, you must have your own way. I’ve called half a dozen times at her flat, and she won’t see me.
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