Particles of bullet were embedded in Rhea’s large arm as she swung across the stones in her donated legs. The jolly part of it was that for the first time in her life so far as London was concerned, she was not going anywhere in particular; for the first time in her life it seemed to her she was taking London in. And the sergeant, having carried out all Melusine’s instructions as if they had come out of his own head, went up to check on his patient, apparently at last convinced that his prisoner would not attempt to run away. Awkwardly, he closed his eyes and fumbled for a kiss. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction.
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