:~ THE SUNSHIN~<br > 1<br > THz woman switched off the ignition， allowed the car to<br > coast to a halt， the wheels to brush the kerb. She left her<br > hands on the wheel， slowly filled her lungs with air. Her<br > palms were damp with sweat， inside her gloves. She had tb.hl<br > hands， matching the rest of her; she was not tall， and the<br > wisp of figure allowed her to look like a young boy， when，<br > as now， she wore her midnight blue trouser suit. Her face<br > was serious， with a long nose and pointed chin. Her eyes<br > were a thoughtful amber. Only the headscarI which con-<br > cealed her hair， and shrouded her ears and cheeks， was<br > entirely feminine.<br > . Her scarf， and her anxiety. She glanced at the man. This<br > is a nice car. Her voice was low.<br > You say that about every car. The man s voice was flat，<br > accentless. He moved the rear-view mirror， adjusted his tie，<br > tilted his soft hat to a very fine angle， gave his gloves a tittle<br > jerk up each wrist. It s time. <br > He opened the door， stepped out. It was a dull Decem-<br > ber night， dampened by a light mist which contained a hint<br > of drizzle. The man turned up his coat collar. The woman<br > : stood beside him， half his size， buttoning her leather car-<br > coat， looking up and down the street. The Surrey town was<br > quiet， already darkened， every window a gleam of light be-<br > hind the drawn curtains; it was the pause between the<br > . return of the young children from preparatory school， and<br > the arrival of their fathers from London. In each sitting<br > : room， tea was being served and consumed; jam was being<br > spread and smeared， and spilt on freshly laundered table-<br > cloths and already grubby blouses. Wives were hurrying<br > upstairs to freshen lipstick， and， depending upon their hus-<br >