In the middle there was a gate. She cleaned everything, wiped every surface, mopped and scrubbed every last drop of blood. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. ‘Got you!’ ‘You!’ Stunned, Melusine moved quickly away from the tell-tale bookshelf. 137 The living conditions of her kills were often so sordid that she would spend hours washing them off of her, and August brought her to the Greene River once again, scrubbing the stink from her hair with Ivory Liquid Dishwashing Detergent.
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