“Fancy sleeping on air. I wonder if anyone's done it before. I don't suppose they have. Oh, bother—-Scrubb probably has!”
“Oh, and I [Amy] may also have told him that I quite fancied Dr Smith [The Doctor]. Which in the 1780s was probably punishable by stoning or corsets.”
“I know not to trust anyone," I say. "Except..." Holly studies my face. "You do fancy him, don't you? What a strange, wonderful, repressed place this is.”
“Don't you have anyone else to bother?""There are a shit ton of people that I could reward with my presence, but I chose you.”
“How am I suppose to think about Anna Fitzgerald when I’m wondering whether Julia has ever woken up in someone’s arms and for just a moment, before the sleep cleared from her mind, thought maybe it was me?”
“But this was fancy; she was succumbing to fancy in a way she hadn't done before.”