Sentence The Twohundredandeleventh
When The Man moved, it was only prograde, there was never any going back with him, always forward as though throughout his life he was running for touch in a rugby match, holding the ball close to his chest and bowling over his opponents like skittles – and so when he encountered the landloper, wandering around the Tower where Tammy was imprisoned, he smiled like a benign 
 
aconfidant as he approached, the vagrant smiled back and said “Hi,” - and that was his last word as The Man, without ever breaking his stride, slammed into him, causing him to emit a ragged eruction as his breath was forced out in a belch, then broke his neck with a single twist and kept going, dragging the limp body like a sack of rubbish and dumped him down the disused well, then replaced the cover which the tramp must have removed; he fished the key from his pocket and opened the door – it was time to decide what to do with his prisoner and, at that moment, her fate hung in the balance, for he was beginning to feel that she was an encumbrance he could well do without!