95 The officer showed her into the sleepy suburban police station, a hub of inactivity on Sunday night except for herself and a slightly drunk woman who had been brought in for DUI. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. ” “WHAT?” said Ann Veronica, startled. ” “How the hell did you learn to play like that?” “Lots of practice, John. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. My reply to all of them has been the same. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. The looming face was 71 over her own once again, and arms as strong as iron bars held her down. But Gerald wouldn’t hear of it. '—'They can't,' says I. But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine.
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