More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
The eighth Earl Crane lifted an aristocratic brow. “In my case, the je ne sais quoi includes four years as a smuggler, two death sentences, and a decade as a Shanghai Joe, a dockfront trader. I hope you feel suitably elevated.” Stephen tried to confront all of this at once. “Two death sentences? Really? I mean, you look very well, considering.”
“The house is decaying, the furnishings are museum pieces, half the staff are consumed with loathing of me out of loyalty to my father, or because I remind them of my brother. In any case, they’re people who lived in the same house as Hector when there are perfectly good ditches to die in, which tells you as much as you need to know. Nobody within thirty miles of Piper can cook. And you can thank your lucky stars for the weather, I doubt we’ll need more than four or five fires to make the place tolerable of an evening.”
“There’s something very old and odd and quite unpleasant about this house.” “Yes, that would be Graham.”
“You know,” he added, “there are a number of recommended methods of dealing with ghosts—salt and iron, harmonic resonance, some people swear by exorcism, and not just priests—but that’s the first time I’ve seen anyone try a left hook.”
