Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. ’ ‘Ah. I sat within a few feet of him. I am a thing to be used. " Trenchard took up a pen. She withdrew her mouth and patted his penis dry with the bottom of his shirttails. Just beyond there would be her heart's desire.
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