"Leave him to me," he said. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. ’ Melusine shifted her shoulders. Aren’t I asking—asking plainly now?. “You should probably wash all of that stuff off of yourself. " The Wastrel laughed. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence.
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