" "By no means," rejoined Wood, hastily. “She was the High Priestess who turned me in Greece, before Rome. ‘I’ve never found a woman who did not drive me into a frenzy of boredom. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. Promise me one thing before I leave you. Her sensitive ears could hear her foster mother snoring in front of the television. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. She pulled a few strands of her hair from her head to leave with Michelle’s. Just my room. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. It was so easy to forget the imminent threats of being discovered during times of peace. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft.
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