"Given a chance, I can make bread and butter. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. Whatever anticipation Ann Veronica had formed of this vanished in the reality. She felt her canines grow, the hunger consuming her. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly. But I liked to say it. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. He reeled, and crashed to the floor.
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