“And you love Sophie."Gideon's mouth tensed."She's a mundane and a servant," said Gabriel. "I don't know what you expect to come of it, Gideon.""Nothing," Gideon said roughly. "I expect nothing. But the fact that you believe I should shows that our family brought us up to believe that we should do right only if some reward was the result.”

“By the Angel, this place is barely better than a penny gaff,” Gideon said. “Gabriel, don’t look at anything unless I tell you it’s all right.”

“I had thought we were friends," he said."I cannot be your friend."He took a step forward. "What if I were to ask you—""Gideon!" It was Henry, at the open door, breathless, wearing one of his terrible green-and-orange-striped waistcoats. "Your brother's here. Downstairs—"Gideon's eyes widened. "Gabriel's here?""Yes. Shouting something about your father, but he won't tell us anything more unless you're there. He swears it. Come along." Gideon hesitated, his eyes moving from Henry to Sophie, who tried to look invisible. "I . . .""Come now, Gideon." Henry rarely spoke sharply, and when he did, the effect was startling. "He's covered in blood.”

“Breaking away from Gideon with some reluctance, Sophie rose to her feet and dusted off her dress. "Please forgive me, my dear Mr. Lightwood- I mean Gideon- but I must go and murder the cook. I shall be directly back.”

“They’re not hideous,” said Tessa. Will blinked at her. “What?” “Gideon and Gabriel,” said Tessa. “They’re really quite good-looking, not hideous at all.” “I spoke,” said Will, in sepulchral tones, “of the pitch-black inner depths of their souls.” Tessa snorted. “And what color do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?” “Mauve,” said Will.”

“A very magnanimous statement, Gideon,” said Magnus.“I’m Gabriel.”Magnus waved a hand. “All Lightwoods look the same to me.”

“Gideon Lightwood said he was at the Institute in Madrid. What on earth was he doing there?''Faffing about, most likely', said Will.”