“He's always said if you wish to die rich, invest in vice.”

“I adore you, Frannie. You know that. I always have."She gave him the smile that had always warmed him, but it was not that threatened to bring him to his knees. He would kill to keep that smile on her face. But to keep Catherine smiling, he would willingly die."But you love Catherine," Frannie said quietly.”

“How did you get in here?” Sterling asked, wishing his words didn’t sound quite so slurred. He was having more difficulty than usual bringing his shadowed world into focus. Damnation, why hadn’t he lit more lamps or poured himself fewer snifters of brandy?“Not important,” Jack Dodger said. “What is important is for you to realize that you can do nothing to keep us out if we decide we want in.”

“Brittles stood at attention until Jack looked at him, then he bowed slightly. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but an Inspector Swindler from Scotland Yard wishes to speak with you. Are you home?”“Of course, I’m home, man. I’m sitting right here.”

“It hurts to cry," she said, her voice raspy."It hurts worse not to.""Did you cry?""For four days straight.""Is that how long it took you to bury them?""Yes, ma'am," he said in a voice that sounded like stone grating against stone.”

“Meg forgot about cautioning him to be quiet. She forgot about everything but watching the care with which he wrapped a blanket around Mama Warner before gingerly lifting her into his arms and cradling her against his chest."Comfortable?" he asked."You know how to hold a woman so she feels precious. Makes me wish I was sixty years younger.”

“...Closing his eyes, he saw every smile that Rebecca had ever directed his way and knew a pang of regret. He would have liked to have held her in his arms one last time before he died.”