He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. Her father and her husband, who had both been a little pale at their first encounter, were growing now just faintly flushed. He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. “Tell your sister she was right to shoot, quite right. All human food tasted equally dead and loathsome to her, whether it was prime steak or cheap hamburger.
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