He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. The Ragged Edge. " "Pshaw!" said Wild. " "Absolutely. Good riddance. He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. And, yet, I don't know. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. The threadbare remainders of the dinner discussion hovered over the topics of obsessive fans of the science fiction and horror genres.
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