In the third room Santa Claus, winterishly arrayed, came in with a huge pack over his shoulder, from which he took something for each child as he walked up and down the aisles.

“Patrick Flannery?” Lilah grinned. “He is cute. Maybe you should take him some soup and well-wishes.”

Watt wore, on his feet, a boot, brown in colour, and a shoe, happily of a brownish colour also.

There are two ways to get a piece of the action at any of the big drug markets along the border: pay off—or kill off—anyone who stands in your way.