"My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess. I don't know what you have done; I don't want to know now. The streets were deserted as they drove past familiar sites. He sat before a desk littered all over with papers and official looking documents. ‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again. She descended down the stairs of the house, sidestepping the refuse from bingedrinking teenagers that was strewn everywhere. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife.
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