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I’m damaged goods. Cocking the gun. “You have a boyfriend! That’s fine by me, it’s your business, but you’d better stop sneaking around because Sheila’s got eyes in the back of her head!” He heard Sheila utter a loud percussive blast of a snore from the master bedroom. He gurgled as if trying to communicate. She had to explain about and pay off that forty pounds. Befuddle yourself, if you want to. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them. “But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too look tired.
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