I was sick. I went to the windows and was amazed to discover how well I could see over the swamp. I saw that image of the gun at my head. The ceiling lights were gasoliers, with brass arms and cut crystal cups for their bulbs, more ordinary yet more atmospheric than the sumptuous crystal chandeliers of the first floor.
Remember what I say. But I had no intention of hunting tonight, even though I was faintly hungry. Then came the vague formation of the apparition again, translucent, face without detail; then it dissolved. When it was over we lay together, embraced, warm, contented and kissing each other playfully and gently.
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