Then, slowly, her face cleared. Thoughts seemed to flow back into it. Then he realized flowing was just a tiny bit wrong. She wasn't filling up, like a pond or a tidal pool; she was warming up. Yes… she is warming up, like some small electrical gadget. A toaster, or maybe a heating pad.

“I said to Tony, “That storm is going south."“ She spoke slowly at first, almost groggily, but then her words began to catch up to normal cadence and to fill with normal conversational brightness. But now he was alerted. Everything she said was a little strange, a little offbeat. Listening to Annie was like listening to a song played in the wrong key.

“But he said, “It changed its mind.”

“'Oh poop!” I said. “I better get on my horse and ride.”

““I'd stay in town if you can, Miz Wilkes,” he said. “Now they're saying on the radio that it's going to be a proper jeezer and nobody is prepared.”

“But of course I had to get back - there's no one to feed the animals but me. The nearest people are the Roydmans, and they are miles from here. Besides, the Roydmans don't like me.” She cast an eye shrewdly on him as she said this last, and when he didn't reply she tapped the spoon against the rim of the bowl in peremptory fashion.

“Done?”

“Yes, I'm full, thanks. It was very good. Do you have a lot of livestock?” Because, he was already thinking, if you do, that means you've got to have some help. A hired man, at least. “Help” was the operant word. Already that seemed like the operant word, and he had seen she wore no wedding ring.

“Not very much,” she said. “Half a dozen laying hens. Two cows. And Misery.” He blinked.

She laughed. “You won't think I'm very nice, naming a sow after the brave and beautiful woman you made up. But that's her name, and I meant no disrespect.” After a moment's thought she added: “She's very friendly.” The woman wrinkled up her nose and for a moment became a sow, even down to the few bristly whiskers that grew on her chin. She made a pig-sound: “Whoink! Whoink! Whuh-Whuh-WHOINK!” Paul looked at her wide-eyed.



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