But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. And it had not shocked her! It was this appalling absence of indignation that had put terror into her heart. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. The envelope might contain only a request as to what he wanted done with the manuscripts. Earles strode into the waiting-room. These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. Leastways, not on your own.
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