He looked acrossat my friend, who responded with a weak laugh and then got off my handsand, having called me a "bitch", wandered off. As the weight wa... liftedfrom my hands, it felt like whatever had kept my heart pressed shut hadbeen released, and the tears began to flow. I headed to the toilets toclean myself up, as the smaller children, who by now had finished theirown lunches, gathered in silent contemplation, wondering why an olderboy would be walking through the playground crying and. They had argued about battlefield attire a million times before. It was futile to complain. They proceeded in silence.Samson could tell by the setting sun that he had been walking for a very long time. He appreciated FarallonÕs longing for accommodations. They had not enjoyed a decent night of sleep for days. Even the red glow behind the windows of the whorehouses oozed a sense of cozy domesticity. The happy thought of a familiar face leaning out of a window and beckoning him to her bedroom. More

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