...said a female voice, plucking and plucking piteously at an imagined thread on her miniskirt. The flame-haired woman who possessed the sultry voice was also rocking back and forth, and side to side, so strenuously that the ambulance fairly shook. Muffy realized that the speaker was not a volunteer at all, but a person who had lost her senses in the explosion, and who had been picked up out of kindness by the ambulance crew, for transport to a facility for such unfortunates. The unfortunate, still plucking with distaste at her short satin skirt, suddenly began disrobing. It was difficult to ascertain her reason, if indeed a mind so unhinged can be said to possess that noble quality, for it could have been any one of a number, the enclosed space being so very hot, the assembled company so very attractive, and, of course, there were the "thread lice" of the voluptuous mental patient's fevered imagination.
The woman muttered another entirely meaningless phrase, (as far as Muffy could understand,) and it was: |
