He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast. You denied it at the time—but unfortunately I have proof. “I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said. And sometimes he overflowed with a peculiarly malignant wit that played, with devastating effect, upon any topics that had the courage to face it. The blood will rest on your head. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. I suppose I was a little idiotic—I don’t think we either of us mentioned the future, but it was arranged that I should go the next afternoon and have tea with her. ’ Reminiscence made him smile. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. Kneebone. FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. That might happen on her birthday—in August.
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