"_Did you just sneeze?_"
"Sneeze? Me? Did I--"
I said something quick and nasty, I don't know what. No! It hadn't been
her. I knew it.
It was Chowderhead's sneeze.
* * * * *
Chowderhead. Marvin T. Roebuck, his name was. Five feet eight inches
tall. Dark-complected, with a cast in one eye. Spoke with a Midwest kind
of accent, even though he came from California--"shrick" for "shriek,"
"hawror" for "horror," like that. It drove me crazy after a while.
Maybe that gives you an idea what he talked about mostly. A skunk. A
thoroughgoing, deep-rooted, mother-murdering skunk.