Sir John stood upon the threshold. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. I love you—unendurably. Everything in this world changed—except human folly. She shivered, more due to his presence than the changing weather. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. Then, her body still tense with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and rocked from side to side. “That’s what we narcs have to do. ” “Perhaps not,” she answered. Am I so forgettable?” He strode down the hall as she ran to catch up with him past lockers someone had painted an abysmal shade of gray blue. And in the Avenue she had an encounter with Ramage.
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