And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. ‘I take it that you like this great-niece of mine?’ ‘One cannot help but do so. Not the most stringent search, conducted all morning, turned up one solitary sheet. You will be under the eye of the best friend I have; and if you do not treat that child for what she is —an innocent angel—I promise to hunt you across the wide world and kill you with bare hands. You could not have aided and assisted us more effectively by trying to drown yourself in the sea. Rhea’s head exploded into a spray of blood, brain, and bone. Spurling in alarm. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. ‘But this is not to my blame, grandpére. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. gutenberg.
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