” “Could it?” asked Vivienne, genuinely puzzled and leaning towards him on her arm. “Indeed,” said Quentin, warming to the theme, “who knows what sort of world we’ve woken up in? For all we know, Elvis Presley might be dead, Jack Straw might be Prime Minister and there might be no Fox TV.” “What are you talking about?” “I’m just saying we don’t know how the universe might have changed since yesterday.” “What you on!” Vivienne exclaimed, with a nervous laugh. “I can’t imagine any of those things happening. Have you gone loopy?” “No,” laughed Quentin. “I was just speculating. You know, the two of us sliding sideways through space and time…” “‘Sliding sideways’? What kind of metaphysical rubbish is this? I’m not sure I do want to see you again if you spout stuff like that.” Quentin panicked slightly, but he relished having his arm around her. “Don’t you remember our conversation yesterday?” “I guess so. Mostly about your job in the City, the money you earn and how your wife doesn’t. "Carnation's best, my love, bon appetite!," he said, though he knew she could hear nothing. As he poured, he watched the figure stuck immobile upon the slab, her stomach moving visibly. "She's full now, I'll bet," he muttered. Setting the half empty pitcher in the corner, he removed the tube from its connection on the mask, and headed for the sprayer. The equipment that Mr. Dodds wheeled over to Mandy's motionless side appeared to be a common paint sprayer, and was, except for minor modifications to the spray-gun. It was a contractor type, with one hose to the air compressor, and one that dipped into the paint bucket. In this case, however, the label on the five gallon bucket read: ACME 1 Part Latex Molding Compound --> ask for it by name
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