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Groc turned to the waiter and thrust an unnecessarily large tip into his hand

“Spoilat the door where his women had trotted out on their pony hooves, he shook his head “I irls’ faces They willArrivederci!”

And he was gone The front doors whispered shut

“Let’s get out I feel like a fool!” said Roy

He ne He cursed and cleaned it up I poured him another and watched him take it slowly and calm down

Five minutes later, in the back of the restaurant, it happened

The headwaiter was unfolding a screen around the fartherether, with a sharp crack The waiter said so to himself And then there was a movement from the kitchen doorhere, I realized, afor so screen, they stepped out into the light and hurried, looking only ahead at that screen, toward the table

“Ohod,” I whispered hoarsely “Roy?”

Roy glanced up

“Fafner!” I whispered

“No” Roy stopped, stared, sat back doatching as the couple moved swiftly “Yes”

But it was not Fafner, not the on, the terrible serpent, that quickened hi his lady’s hand and pulling her along behind him

It e had been looking for for ht have scribbled on paper or typed on a page, with frost running up my arm to ice my neck

It hat Roy had been seeking every tiers into his clay It was a blood-red bubble that rose stea in a primeval mud pot and shaped itself into a face

And this face was all the mutilated, scarred, and funeral faces of the wounded, shot, and buried an