“I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. " "True, and I shan't be easy till my turn arrives. My servant. And talking of every conceivable thing. ” He moved himself from the recliner to the couch and patted a cushion. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. Afterwards was the most delightful part of all!. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered.
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