"What poet was that?" "Stevenson. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. He gave you a poison. \" She knew he was blushing in the dark. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. He staggered back a few paces; and, before he could recover himself, Thames tripped up his heels, and, placing the point of the spike at his throat, threatened to stab him if he attempted to stir, or cry out.
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