“Got any brothers or sisters?”“No.”“Not a real chatty gal, are ya?”“Exactly how am I supposed to expand on not having siblings? Should I cry?”He smiled as he held up a bottle, “Wine?”

“She looked up, over the bandage that was nestled under her chin, and saw that the big-belly man with the red beard was starting at her, shaking his head. He looked like he was crying. "I got ya this time," he whispered, as if to himself. "This time, I got ya.”

“That's alright," said Hugo. "I've got some wine"Which was about all he seemed to have. He poured out two mugfuls."Very nice," said Adrian, sipping appreciatively. "I wonder how they got the cat to sit on the bottle.""It's cheap, that's the main thing.”

“Damn it," I said. "I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to kill Littleton."He smiled at me, his teeth very white in the darkness of his face. "Eat him," he said.”

“My brother, who grew up with three sisters, was I won't say how many years old when he finally realized that he did not have to wrap the towel around his chest when he came out of the shower.”

“I think I must be smiling at him because he's smiling at me, but he's smiling like he might be petrified; he's breathing like he's forgotten he's supposed to, looking at me like he's not sure how to do this, hesitating like he's unsure how to let me see him like this. Like he has no idea how to be so vulnerable.But here he is.And here I am.”