Horning shook away the haze.
* * * * *
His wife's expression was more unfathomable than ever. She stepped
closer, and now he saw that she was holding out the pistol,
butt-foremost, as if to hand it to him.
He reached up to take the weapon.
But instead of releasing it, she brushed his hand aside and brought the
gun-butt down sharply on the screen of Horning's scanning scope.
The scanner smashed to splinters.
Horning went rigid. But before he could move, his wife had jerked back
the gun, reversed it, and leveled it at him.
Horning cursed aloud.
For the first time, Myrtle smiled.
It reminded Horning of the grin on a bleaching skull.