Until this instant, he discovered, he had thought of Melusine’s plan only in a nebulous fashion, a naïve girl’s dream. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. Something softened in Melusine’s chest. Get the pole out of your ass. Ann Veronica felt no repulsion at the prospect. ‘You are a born rebel, ma’am, and I can see now where she gets it from. He grew even harder. 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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