He wouldn't be finishing his own early lunch; no way in hell could he finish it. Victor had moved a surgical lamp over the hole to assisthim. Arms folded on the railing of the balcony, she stared down at the rippling play of colors thatwashed the sprawling proscenium. He was maybe even— From behind him there came a wet grunt.
He's dying. The words came out in a croak that didn't sound like his voice at all. 'Eat snot and rot,' Beaver breathed. He knew immediately that she was weeping for him, and he murmured thathe would come with her.
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