“That's a very murky position," objected Felix.
"So's the weather. But this is England, we must learn to live with uncertainty.”
“I simply feel that world domination is not my cup of tea. Is that shortsighted?”
“Oh, Sophronia, thank goodness. Save me? Please? All those young girls, in pastels, talking about the weather. I shall go jump off a bridge, I swear I shall. Do you have bridges in Wiltshire? They chatter, they chatter worse than Dimity ever did. Oh, the chattering! The chattering, it haunts me.”
“If anyone saw Monique, a well-dressed woman of quality, dangling from the doorway, they apparently assumed everyone had difficulties in life and moved on.”
“The tea, once it arrived, had its customary effect—engendering comfort and loosening the tongue. That’s tea for you, thought Sophronia, the great social lubricant.”
“Soap understood her. Soap would always understand.”
“What she said was “I want a man who stays out of my way.”
“As Dimity said, “Sidheag surely does grumpy old man very well for a sixteen-year-old girl.”
“Sophronia and Dimity took a vacant love seat at the front, Sophronia dislodging a large, fluffy cat with a scrunched-up face. The cat gave her a disgusted look. Or seemed to; it was hard to tell with that face.”
“Felix looked as if he had been given some kind of caped weasel—part gift, part insult, part utter confusion. “Thank you, I think.”
“Espionage, Sophronia had learned, was tough on petticoats.”
“Saw your nicely strung-up slab of bacon.” “Don’t insult bacon,” said Sidheag.”
“It was their vampire teacher’s custom of late to administer decidedly oddball lessons. Which is to say, more oddball than an ordinary lesson with a vampire in a floating dirigible espionage school.”
“The tea, once it arrived, had its customary effect—engendering comfort and loosening the tongue. That’s tea for you, thought Sophronia, the great social lubricant”
“Things were always funnier when one was lying down.”
“Felix ran his hands through his dark hair, sounding like a resigned maiden aunt. 'It'll all end in tears and coal dust, you see if it doesn't.”
“Funambulist.' said Sophronia Temminnick, quite suddenly.
'Sophronia, such language!' Dimity Plumleigh-Teignmott reprimanded.
'Pardon?' said Agatha Woosmoss.
Sidheag Maccon, the final member of Sophronia's group, muttered, 'Bless you.'
'I wasn't sneezing, nor being indelicate, thank you all very much. I was thinking out loud.'
'As if thinking out loud weren't *decidedly* indelicate.' Dimity was not to be swayed out of disapproval when she felt it might exercise her creativity.”
“It’ll all end in tears and coal dust, you see if it doesn’t.”
“Lady Linette has been teaching us seduction techniques.” She lowered her eyes and then looked off across the gray moor, presenting him with her profile, which was rather a nice one, or so Mademoiselle Geraldine told her.
That statement successfully shocked Felix. He swallowed a few times before saying, his voice almost as high as it had been a year ago, “Really?”
“Then we are on the side of curiosity and evenhandedness. Once we know what's really going on, then we choose.'
'That's a very murky position,' objected Felix.
'So's the weather. But this is England, we must learn to live with uncertainty.”
“You think loyalty can be bought?” “Don’t you?”
“Agatha, who was spending time in their room as her own was lonely, perked up. "I preferred the garrote myself."
The others looked at her, startled. Aside from the theater, and sleeping, Agatha rarely expressed an interest in anything. Let alone something espionage related.
"You do?" Dimity encouraged.
Agatha nodded. "You can wear it as jewelry, it hides away easily, and it's a nice clean death.”
“Whoa there, miss, that’s enough of that!”
“Oh dear me, are you hurt? Have I hurt you more?”
“I think most of me’s fine, miss. Just, please, leave off the touching.”
“I do apologize. I was only checking.”
“Whoa, now. Not that I didn’t like it, miss. You can check me much as you like, only later.”
“I’m Scottish,” as if that would explain everything. The duke nodded, as if it did. “Yes, well, we can’t all be from the right side of the country. Would”
“in the end you’ll have to cede to Lord Mersey. He’s too much of a peer, you understand? And a bit of a prick as well.”
“No wife ever cleared a man’s character, not without a great deal of trouble on the lower decks. So”
“Apparently, gentlemen not only liked to kiss and touch women everywhere, they did that and more, on a regular basis, and mostly not with ladies at all, but with women of less genteel breeding. Some gentlemen, her brothers had whispered, even did it with each other. Although this was considered quite uncouth, Sophronia gathered, once one left Eton.”
“Lady Linette stopped the looks and returned to instruction. “What were we discussing?”
“Um, touching,” said Preshea, in an unusually meek tone.
“Oh, yes. He may also wish to kiss there.”
“What, the décolletage?” Dimity squeaked.
“Quite often.”
Sophronia, thinking of her brothers’ lewd talk, asked, “And elsewhere?”
Lady Linette smiled. “Well, yes, the very best ones like to kiss all over.”
“With werewolves gone and fire stoked, Sidheav stopped shaking. The tea, once it arrived, had its customary effect--engendering comfort and loosening the tongue. *That's tea for you*, thought Sophronia, *the great social lubricant.* Soon they had the whole story out of her. No wonder tea was considered a vital weapon of espionage.”
“The world was made for Man, and Man was made to conquer and rule it'... that manifesto is doubted now, ladies and gentlemen... almost everywhere in our culture, in all walks of life, among the young and the old, but especially among the young, for whom the dream of a glittering future in which life will become ever sweeter and sweeter and sweeter, decade after decade, century after century, has been exploded and is meaningless. Your children know better. They know better in large part because you know better.
Only our politicians still insist that the world was made for Man, and Man was made to conquer and rule it. They must, as a professional obligation, still affirm and proclaim the manifesto of our revolution. If they want to hold on to their jobs, they assure us with absolute conviction that a glorious future lies just ahead for us - provided that we march forward under the banner of conquest and rule. They assure us of this, and then they wonder, year after year, why fewer and fewer voters go to the poles.”
“Когато Аларик говореше, бе достатъчно опасен. А когато мълчеше, бе смъртоносен. Жрецът се взираше в него, без да мига и изглеждаше почти нечовешки в своето спокойствие. Ако някога някой мъж бе изглеждал неподходящ за свещеничество, то Конлан би назовал Аларик. Жрецът беше висок, колкото него, а силното му мускулесто тяло подхождаше на смъртоносната заплаха в очите му. Никой ученик обаче не би го потърсил, за да му разкаже история за детинските си пакости в изповедалнята, това бе сигурно. И все пак се говореше, че повече от една жена, съблазнена от тъмната красота на Аларик, таи надежда да убеди мрачния жрец да... кривне... от обета за безбрачие.”
“Never go to bed angry. Terrified is okay.”
“Look, wolf boy, he’s gone. He came by, borrowed money,” she snorted, “took money—it’s not like I’ll ever see it again—and headed out. Told me that the Pack was looking for him, wanting to kill him.
Even if I knew where he ran to, which I
don’t, I certainly wouldn’t tell someone out to hurt him.”
“to make up in an hour for all their wasted yesterdays.”
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