He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. “I shan’t eat him. There was no answer. “Why come after me after all these years, Sebastianus? Haven’t you found any sycophants to convert, any nubile young nymphets to bring into the cannibal flock?” “Why should I do that if there is still the chance of you?” “What if there could be no chance of me? How do you know you can have me?” “I see your game. Come back—you must come back. Meantime, every preparation had been made outside for his departure. But, perhaps, you'll first accompany me to my dwelling for a moment, that we may arrange our accounts before we start. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours.
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