The Book of Blood Volume 6 The Last Illusion Part 3

The Book of Blood Volume 6 The Last Illusion Part 3

Twenty minutes later, Valentin brought up a tray of food: a large salad, bread, wine, and the steak. It was one degree short of charcoal. 'Just the way I like it,' Harry said, and set to guzzling. He didn't see Dorothea Swann, though God knows he thought about her often enough. Every time he heard a whisper on the stairs, or footsteps along the carpetted landing, he hoped her face would appear at the door, an invitation on her lips. Not perhaps the most appropriate of thoughts, given the proximity of her husband's corpse, but what would the illusionist care now? He was dead and gone. If he had any generosity of spirit he wouldn't want to see his widow drown in her grief. Harry drank the half-carafe of wine Valentin had brought, and when - three-quarters of an hour later - the man re-appeared with coffee and Calvados, he told him to leave the bottle. Nightfall was near. The traffic was noisy on Lexington and Third. Out of boredom he took to watching the street from the…