The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. “I believe,” he said stiffly, “that these are the apartments of Miss Pellissier. ’ Baring his teeth in a smile of triumph that was every bit an animal snarl, and leaping up onto the seat of the pew he was in, he jumped hazardously to the next. He saluted awkwardly. “What were you doing outside Miss Pellissier’s flat to-night? You were looking at her windows. When things are at the worst, they'll mend. “Why waste yourself, John?” 241 < 31 > THE CONCERT Martin Chen showed up early for the pre-concert warm-up at 5:00.
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