After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. “Uh, can you get me a soda or something?” She said, shielding her exposed teeth with her hand. ” “You are wonderful!” she murmured. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it. “Where should we go?” Knowing that they would be dogged wherever they went, she volunteered, “Let’s go to the Big Apple.
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