“ Thank you,” I said. “You wife has permanently marred it.” “ It doesn't look marred from here,” she said. “ Well, it feels marred,”...I said. He gave me a pat. “ I love the way it bounces when you walk,” he said. I gave him a little wiggle, and ran the rest of the way up to the bedroom. He didn't bother to chase me. I was in the bedroom waiting for him. “ You're very slow,” I said. “I could have locked myself in.” “ I knew you wouldn't,” he said. “Leanne has told me too much about you.” . . Then she saw it. Saw the familiarshape of a receptacle standing before the graven image. A large vase, astone urn full to the brim with some sort of grey-white mucus. Somethingwas smouldering in a dish beside it and suddenly she was aware of anaroma more heady than any spice she had ever smelt. It encapsulated theprecious oils of flowers and the subtle scent of aromatic wood shavingsincited to burn, and something else too, probably some kind of narcotic.It was so rich she felt drenched with. More

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