Clive, I Want You to Murder Dad

The boy produced a carving knife and was fingering the blade. Clive laid the knife on the table and sat down in the armchair. The boy put his hands behind his back and shook his head vehemently. But sonny, i don't want a carving knife. It's for you. Half mad with loneliness, thought, clive, his mother's gone off with a man. His rabbits are eaten. He's got nothing to care for. Then i come along, a romantic stranger, i want you to murder dad. Is that what you asked me in for? SaidClive. After a pause he nodded. A delicate pink color had come into his cheeks. His eyes gl