"Yes," he said. He began to rub his hands over one another. His growing excitement and his hatred bubbled just below the surface of his mind; Julia could feel the emotions without him being aware that she could.
My, she thought. He's going to take a lot of re-educating before he makes a very good husband.
When they entered the hotel room, Walt found his throat expanding with excitement.
Forential, he thought, will be pleased that I have killed her in secret. No one on Earth will ever know who she was killed by. When she is dead, I can slip out of the hotel and ... and invisible, I can steal food and drink and stay in empty rooms until the invasion comes; and when it does, then I can start teleporting earthlings and slaying them with my hands, and.... She doesn't suspect, he thought, that I am going to kill her in just a moment.
He complimented himself on how cleverly he had concealed his intentions.
Covertly he surveyed the room. The pitcher on the table? The chair? What with? A sudden numbing blow—like the blow Calvin delivered to John. Then, afterwards, hands, knees, fingers—and she will be dead.
He saw himself rising triumphant from her still body. Saw Forential (when, later, he heard of it) smiling approval, saw his mates listening awe struck.... His breath trembled in his throat; his arms ached to be moving.
"Won't you sit down?" she said.
I will wait until she is off guard, he thought. Smiling in anticipation, he sat down.