Part of her felt like laughing insanely at how badly she had been duped. ’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. ” “It would be my pleasure, madame. How did you like Tristan?” Ann Veronica paused the fraction of a second before her reply came. It is a plain case of alcoholic stupor. She raided their settlements in shifts, staggering her kills from tribe to tribe, undiscriminating of their petty politics. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. After all, what can it matter? It was just to make sure. Wood.
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