My dear—I can call you that here, anyhow—I know that. ‘Word has it that she is English on her father’s side. During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered. Quilt, meanwhile, came down, examined the door, and finding it unfastened, locked it with a bitter imprecation on his brother-janizary's carelessness. Her head dipped deeply into the current, and she narrowly escaped being swamped. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins.
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