“Demon pox," said Sophie. "Mr. Lightwood's got it, has had for years, and it'll kill him in a right couple of months if he doesn't get the cure. And Mortmain said he can get it for him." The room exploded in a hubbub. Charlotte raced over to Sophie; Henry called after her; Will leaped from his chair and was dancing in a circle.”

“I want it to stop," he said. "Sophie says everyone is still searching for a cure for me. I know I gave Will my permission, but I want everyone to cease looking now, Charlotte. It is over.”

“Demon pox, oh demon poxJust how is it acquired?One must go down to the bad part of townUntil one is very tired.Demon pox, oh demon pox, I had it all along—Not the pox, you foolish blocks,I mean this very song—For I was right, and you were wrong!""Will!" Charlotte shouted over the noise, "Have you LOST YOUR MIND? CEASE THAT INFERNAL RACKET! Jem—" Jem, rising to his feet, clapped his hands over Will's mouth. "Do you promise to be quiet?" he hissed into his friend's ear.Will nodded, blue eyes blazing. Tessa was staring at him in amazement; they all were. She had seen Will many things—amused, bitter, condescending, angry, pitying—but never giddy before.Jem let him go. "All right, then."Will slid to the floor, his back against the armchair, and threw up his arms. "A demon pox on all your houses!" he announced, and yawned."Oh, God, weeks of pox jokes," said Jem. "We're in for it now.”

“I get no sense from his note at all,” said Will, bounding to his feet, “except that he can quote Tennyson’s lesser poetry. Sophie, how quickly canyou have Tessa ready?”“Half an hour,” said Sophie, not looking up from the dress.“Meet me in the courtyard in half an hour, then,” said Will. “I’ll wake Cyril. And be prepared to swoon at my finery.”

“I suspect he's sweet on Sophie and doesn't like to see her work too hard.'Tessa was glad to hear it. She'd felt awful about her reaction to Sophie's scar, and the thought that Sophie had a male admirer - and a handsome one like that- eased her conscience slightly. 'Perhaps he's in love with Agatha', she said.'I hope not. I intend to marry Agatha myself. She may be a thousand years old, but she makes an incomparable jam tart. Beauty fades, but cooking is eternal.”

“Their grandchildren had reminded Will of the song about demon pox he had taught them- when they were much too young, Tessa had always thought- and that they had all memorized. They sang it all together and out of tune, scandalizing Sophie.”

“Mr. Branwell and Mr. Carstairs seem to have no problem cleaning their boots,”Sophie said, looking darkly from Will to Tessa. “Perhaps you could learn from their example.”“Perhaps,” said Will. “But I doubt it.”Sophie scowled, and started off along the corridor again, her shoulders tightly set with indignation.Tessa looked at Will in amazement. “What was that?”Will shrugged lazily. “Sophie enjoys pretending she doesn’t like me.”“Doesn’t like you? She hates you!”