“Yes, but maybe later. ” She distantly remembered moments in childhood spent in phobic trance, when her father had told her God was punishing sinners in Hell. It was Annabel who spoke. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. ’ She waved towards a handy table to one side which was piled high with so many volumes, it looked in imminent danger of crashing to the floor. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. She leaned back in her chair.
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