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They call him Dogman ’cause he bit some woman’s teats off one time.’
That’s what y’are, Dogman. You’re one plausible bastard.
‘How dare you, you magical arsehole?
Well. He might have been a new man, but he was still a man.
She strolled to the door by a roundabout route, letting her feet scuff against the boards and fill the room with their ugly scraping. She stopped on the way to gaze at a picture, to poke at a chair, to flick at a shiny pot, none of which interested her at all.
It can be a fearsome weapon, patience. One that few men ever learn to use.
A man should only make such promises as he is sure he can keep.
She would have been surprised if the few hundred men down there had five whole consciences between them.
She could see it in the way he stood. He had learned nothing.
