Green - Secret History 2 - Daemons Are Forever (v1.0) /**/ <!-- function BGColor(colour){ document.bgColor=colour; } function ChSize(size) { document.body.style.fontSize = size + "px"; } //--> /**/ /**/ <!-- var boodschap = 'proofread and re-formatted by nukie'; function dgstatus() { window.status = boodschap; timerID = setTimeout("dgstatus()", 25); } dgstatus(); //--> /**/ Chapter 10 Various Voices, Prophesying War « ^ » Sometimes it seems to me that the whole of my time at the Hall consists of people marching up to me, determined to tell me things they already know I’m not going to like. There’s a certain look I’ve learned to recognise; equal parts determination and it’s-for-your-own-good glee. This time it was Callan Drood, emerging from a side room as I wandered back into the Hall. He looked not so much sunburned from his trip to South America, as sun-roasted. He headed straight for me, already scowling furiously. Didn’t mean it had to be bad news; Callan always looked that way.
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