“Dancing? You, Poppy?" Marianne shook her head slowly. I never thought..."Rose looked concerned. She even felt Poppy's head for fever, but Poppy shook her off."I don't know about you, Rose, but I'm done letting creatures like Under Stone and the Corley dictate my life. I enjoy dancing, and I will blasted well dance at my wedding!""Poppy! Language!"Poppy didn't answer; she just threw her arms around Christian and kissed him soundly.”
“Will there be poppy juice in it?"Phresine shook her head."Good. My wife and I agreed that only my wine was to be poisoned.”
“Know her? Of course I know her. Everyone knows Poppy. She's famous.”
“She had never been so close to anybody. It was as if they were one being, together, not predator and prey, but partners in a dance. Poppy-and-James.”
“Marianne's mouth was open in surprise, but Poppy looked murderous. She clutched her reticule as though it contained a weapon. Realizing that it probably held some very sharp knitting needles, Christian reflected that it did.”
“Life has always poppies in her hands.”