The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. At times I swear I’ve never met a more jaded fifteen-year-old, and your lie about being sixteen didn’t get by me for one second, believe it. " "Lead the way to it then, Saint Giles," said Jack, in a tone of mock authority. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. Hear me, adorable girl! You know not the extent of my devotion.
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