” “I couldn’t do that,” said Ann Veronica, sharply. She thought of how much she wanted to eat the foods she had once feasted on that now smelled as innocuous as spring flowers. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. She looked down at him and saw that the sunlight was gleaming from his cheeks, and that all over his cheeks was a fine golden down of delicate hairs. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand.
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