Worst of all was the loss of Cahill.
"Why?" asked Farradyne, bitterly.
"He—" Her eyes opened wide again as she relived the scene, relished the violence.
"Have your fun," gritted Farradyne.
"I hoped it was you," she said. "I wouldn't have killed you." Her voice was calm, she might have been saying "kiss" instead of "kill." "Him I did not like."
"And you like me?"
"You I save to hate tomorrow," she said with matter-of-fact flatness.
"Why didn't you save him?"
"What was he to you?"
"He was my source."