"It is," replied Sheppard. ” Lucy looked at the small shelf which was jammed with thick paperbacks by every major horror novelist of the twentieth century. Reverse psychology or something, it’s like she was trying to draw him nearer by pushing him away. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. ” “It came,” he said. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. “Should I leave? Sounds like she is running out of food. ’ With satisfaction, Gerald noted that her voice was hopelessly unsteady and drove home his advantage. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way. ” He uttered thoughtfully. Sheppard!" echoed Jack, surprised out of his caution.
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