“Khorre!”
“Yes.”
“Gin!”
“Here it is, Noni. Drink it, my boy, but not all at once, not all at once, Noni.”
Haggart drinks; he examines the room with a smile.
“Nobody. Did you see him, Khorre? He is there, behind the curtain. Just think of it, sailor—here we are again with him alone.”
“Go home, Noni!”
“Right away. Give me some gin.”
He drinks.
“And they? They have gone?”