When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother. She launched into a stuffy Partita 89 and played it too fast. Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner. “If it is a choice between the two,” she answered, “I must be Annabel Pellissier. “I don’t think you can have heard me, Vee,” he said, with intensely controlled fury. “You’re kidding, right?” “Not kidding at all.
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