His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. Sydney Courtlaw, live here, please?” Anna asked him. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other.
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