"I'm not afraid, now." He looked at the trees that hung over them, waiting, and shook his head. "I don't understand. Now that I know I'm going to die, I'm not afraid."
Sheila's green eyes were soft and misty. She kissed Hilton, slowly and tenderly, on the lips.
Falken turned his back and stared at the twisted ugly trees. He didn't see them. And he wasn't thinking of the Unregenerates and the world he'd won and then lost.
Sheila's hand touched him. She whispered, "Eric...."
Her eyes were deep, glorious green. Her pale starved face had the brittle beauty of wind-carved snow. She held up her arms and smiled.
Falken took her and buried his gypsy face in the raw gold of her hair.
"How did you know?" he whispered. "How did you know I loved you?"
"I just—knew."
"And Hilton?"