Don’t say anything, she thought to herself, say nothing more, Martin. “Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up. “Women are mocked,” she said. You think everything is harmless and simple, and so forth. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. His eyes were bright with the hunt. She would buy a Greyhound ticket to New Orleans, make a kill or two, then travel into Texas and seduce some wandering man into taking her to Mexico, feast upon him once they got there. He must never refuse her anything which was within his power to grant—anything (he modified) which did not lead to his motives. They were so good to me.
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