The swaying slows though the overwhelming sense of dread still hangs around thew newly dead's shoulders like a wet blanket. Hanna's hand enters his field of vision and Maurice looks up.

He really owes this guy, he thinks.

Maurice extends a clawed hand and gives Hanna's a tired but firm shake.

"It's nice t'meet you...though I wish it'da been under different circumstances. I'm Maurice." And as soon as the words leave his mouth, another sentence jumps the turnstile without paying toll. "How'd you die?"