Chance straightened, dropping the racket and relaxed, he breathed deeply and evenly. He looked at his opponent sprawled on the floor of the court for a game of squash. Exhausted, he slowly rose to his feet and looked at Chance, shook his head. - All. I've had enough - he said in defeat. - I do not know what it is, man, but if you crave blood! In memory surfaced Chance image flame, strong and proud, cold calling twinkle in her green eyes. He turned away and reached for a towel. - I just have had a hard day.
Heathcliff Spins A Yarn
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