“Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. The winter of 1348 seemed to last an eternity, but the Pestilence struck in one day. She would buy a Greyhound ticket to New Orleans, make a kill or two, then travel into Texas and seduce some wandering man into taking her to Mexico, feast upon him once they got there. ‘Very well, mademoiselle, so be it,’ he snapped. She romanticized, imagining a life on the High Seas. ” The tired woman sat still for a moment.
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