Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from the lady. She had found the location of his firm on the internet on a library computer, tracing him to this place in New York where he practiced criminal law. Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity. It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters. Her head swam.
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