Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. Very slowly emerging out of a phase of stupefaction, these personal affairs and her personal problem resumed possession of her mind. They knew they were all Bogey in disguise. Ramage’s bitterness passed as abruptly as his aggression. Her gratitude swelled within her. She was watching him intently. This is your room. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. She was reasonably certain why. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. He was still flashily dressed, with much obvious jewellery and the shiniest of patent boots, but his general bearing and appearance had altered for the worse. "I didn't think you'd been so easily fooled, Joan.
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