“Was I right?” I wondered aloud. “To let Hawkes go without asking?” Islington frowned, leaning his head back against his chair. “Do you know what he said the night after he pulled you from the fountain?” “On St. Valentine’s?” “Has he pulled you out of the fountain any other night?” I grinned for the first time in three hours. “No.” Islington made a You’ve Answered Your Own Question sound. “What was it he said, then?” “He stood by the hearth there, drank an entire glass of brandy, filled it again, and said, ‘I’ve been too careless.’” “How?” I asked. ‘“Careless with Emma,’ he replied. And then
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WHAT DOES IT MEAN
