"A pleasant day, eh, rather soft for this time of year. Would you care to go for a ride?" he asked, yanking down his vest. "My rig is quite comfortabl..., the horse a pacer, well trained, first class."She declined with a tiny smile, barely moving her lips, and she planned her sallies."Perhaps a game of whist?" he suggested, arching his brows."No, I think cards a waste of time and energy." May I read you some poetry then, a sonnet or two? I noted many fine volumes here while I awaited your. It (to refer to it as “he” would have been too repulsive to consider) was shorter than she, and stocky. Well muscled, it moved with little regard for whatever was in front of it, though it moved gracelessly. There was little that was human about its actions. Nor did its face reflect any human expressions, save, possibly, hatred. She had seen those yellowish colored eyes, and pasty skin before, in two or three human babies that had not survived long after birth. But had they lived, those infants. More

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