Michael Malone - Weebly

less of Judith Haig for doing it. Such vengeance was not
clean, so he judged.
Henry was frustrated. He didn't understand her
code of debt and payment, and his ignorance tilted him
off balance. What equaled what?
What kind of woman would shield a man who had
killed her husband (though by chance misfortune)?
Unless she wanted her husband killed.
Or was his causing Haig's death justified by his
executing the rapist for her? An exchange of
necessities? He wanted to know if he and Mrs. Haig
were even. If she sent no bill, that would make it
harder.
The flat disc of the moon, a hunter's moon, came
like a watch light through the small window and
whitened the slender arm that, enclosing him, moved
with his breath. The wound from the bullet ached, but
he could not turn away without moving her aside.
Henry's legs were too long for the cheap, thin mattress;
his feet had always hung over the edge, and Night had
often startled him by licking them. Now Maynard Henry
curled himself against Chin Lam, bending his legs