“Where did you get that?" shouted Cassie, rubbing her temples fiercely, fighting to focus."This?" Isabella swung at a hooded figure as it made a lunge for her, cracking her weapon into its head. The figure dropped like a stone. "I bring this to school every term, Cassie! I knew it would come in handsome.""Handy," said Cassie, shaking her head clear at last.”

“What about Katerina? Is she Head Girl?""Boss Cat, more like." Isabella wrinkled her nose."Where's she from?""Sweden," said Isabella carelessly. Oh, right. So Cassie's movie-star casting had been spot-on. Not that she could imagine Katerina ever Vanting to Be Alone, though. Who else was Swedish? ABBA? Cassie wrinkled her nose. Not a good comparison. "I can see her in a silver catsuit, though," she muttered under her breath.”

“Your irritation is important to us," Cassie droned, looking at me upside down with her head tipped backwards over her headrest, "and will be exacerbated in rotation. Thank you for holding.”

“I'm freezing," moaned Isabella. "I shall freeze to death.""Cheer up, my southern flower." Jake hauled on the oars. "This was your brilliant idea. Anyway, you can die spectacularly of pneumonia, and someone will write a great tragic opera about you."Isabella gave him a teeth-chattering grimace, but her expression turned dreamy and distant as if she was already imagining her last heart-rending aria. Cassie cleared her throat in exasperation. "Can we not talk about spectacular deaths?”

“Now get your Jimmy Choos on. You're going to party with your beau!""Get your Jimmy Choos on, you mean," remarked Cassie under her breath, but she felt a thrill of glamour as she slipped into the gorgeous stilettos. "Am I going to be able to walk?""In these shoes you do not walk, Cassie, you stalk.”

“There has always been something enigmatic about Cassie. This is one of the things I like in her, and I like it all the more for being, paradoxically, a quality that isn't readily apparent, elusiveness brought to so high a level it becomes almost invisible. She gives the impression of being startlingly, almost childishly open--which is true, as far as it goes: what you see is in fact what you get. But what you don't get, what you barely glimpse: this is the side of Cassie that fascinated me always. Even after all this time I knew there were rooms inside her that she had never let me guess at, let alone enter. There were questions she wouldn't answer, topics she would discuss only in the abstract; try to pin her down and she would skim away laughing, as nimbly as a figure skater.”