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VI
Breakfast was a curious meal. Every one was very polite.
‘May I get you some more coffee, Miss Brent?’
‘Miss Claythorne, a slice of ham?’
‘Another piece of toast?’
Six people, all outwardly self-possessed and normal.
And within? Thoughts that ran round in a circle like squirrels in a
cage…
‘What next? What next? Who? Which?’
‘Would it work? I wonder. It’s worth trying. If there’s time. My God, if
there’s time…’
‘Religious mania, that’s the ticket…Looking at her, though, you can hardly
believe it…Suppose I’m wrong…’
‘It’s crazy—everything’s crazy. I’m going crazy. Wool disappearing—red
silk curtains—it doesn’t make sense. I can’t get the hang of it…’
‘The damned fool, he believed every word I said to him. It was easy…I must
be careful, though, very careful.’
‘Six of those little china figures…only six—how many will there be by to-
night?…’
‘Who’ll have the last egg?’
‘Marmalade?’
‘Thanks, can I cut you some bread?’
Six people, behaving normally at breakfast…
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