“Well, thank you, ma’am,” he said still breathing hard, his heated body sleek with sweat, his smile angelic. “We … try.”

“I still have your handkerchief, from the Yuletide.""Raspberries, do you really?"He produced a crumpled, clean handkerchief, and gave it to Azalea. She tried to hand him the watch, but he wouldn't take it."It's still for ransom, is it not?" he said. "I'll collect it when I set the tower again."Azalea smiled, warmth rising to her cheeks. "Well, it has been awfully useful. Thank you, Lord Bradford."He mounted with ease, even with the books, and smiled a crooked smile."Mr. Bradford," he said sheepishly."Mr. Bradford," said Azalea. And now, her cheeks burned. It wasn't unpleasant."Thank you," he said, tipping his hat. "For the pleasant evening.”

“Randall looks at me with fire in his eye, but he nods and decides to smile at my banter. He gets to his feet, bows low, and says, "I believe I saw my sister's fat friend Pickering down below. Shall we all go to dinner and hear more tales of your adventures?" Hey, Ezra ain't fat, he's... well... sleek is what he is. Sleek, like a well-fed seal. Or, hey, maybe even a silkie...”

“You have done well," Grandfather said. "We thank you.""We were afraid sometimes," Jetsam replied."Good." Grandfather's eyes smiled. "That means you had the courage to keep trying.”

“You know," he said, his voice making me feel cold in spite of the heat, "this city can get ahold of you and pull you back no matter how hard you try to climb out. Like a grave.”

“Ah, well.” He smiled-another one of those devastatingly intoxicating smiles that did unreasonable things to her body temperature and respiration.With a nod and a respectful, “Ma’am,” he left her in the middle of the room.Feeling like she’d been hit by a tank.”