But, you see, I’m smirched. He noted that she was fully dressed, that her hair was carefully done, that there was a knotted ribbon around her throat. She would buy a Greyhound ticket to New Orleans, make a kill or two, then travel into Texas and seduce some wandering man into taking her to Mexico, feast upon him once they got there. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. "There, he's as safe as Jack Sheppard in the Condemned Hould," laughed the man. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force.
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