"Well, what do you think?" I sounded belligerent, as if Adonie had set
this out as some game course for me and I was tired and wanted the
"It's difficult to say."
"They're all crazy," I explained it.
"It could be several things. Or one thing, from several angles."
I eyed her. My exasperation was clearly evident. I struggled to hold back
my words. Her shirt was ripped and however I may have found the
confrontation a wonderfully exhilarating release once it could no longer
be avoided, I don't think Adonie saw it that way.
"Either Georgina wanted Olive or she wanted her mother. Olive's mother.
And obtaining Olive would bring the mother to her. Georgina."
"Why? Why would she want her?"
"Either Georgina wanted Olive or she wanted us to want her."
"Why is everybody crazy?" I petitioned mellow Andrew. Fruitlessly. He merely purred and squeezed his green eyes. I
narrowed my eyes at Adonie. "Are you telling me, all right, suggesting,
are you suggesting to me that Georgina went to all this just to make
Olive over into enviable goods in short supply?"
Adonie's dark eyes in the lamplight.
I drew a deep breath thinking this over. After all, it was pretty basic
strategy. After all, it was no sweat for Georgina. She'd only to open her
mouth or twitch a finger and her followers would do whatever. But why
would Georgina want this? Why would she even care?
"You ripped my shirt," Adonie commented.
"Deduct it from my wages."