The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. They didn’t talk about it much, but Mike had been through some eerily similar foster homes in Florida, the where he was born. Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. Last night Mr. ’ ‘And me,’ came the guttural response, ‘I will certainly murder you the very next time I am compelled to see your face. The Law was around the corner and down the narrow hall, puffing a Virginia Slims Menthol in frantic sips, teetering uncomfortably out of an emergency exit door.
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