“WHAT THE—,” said a portly, well-dressed servant who had the misfortune to walk around the corner, past the alcove containing the fourth-floor window Locke and Jean had just crawled in through. “Hey,” said Locke. “Congratulations! We’re reverse burglars, here to give you fifty gold solari!” He tossed his coin purse at the servant, who caught it in one hand and gaped at its weight. In the next second and a half the man spent not raising an alarm, Jean coshed him.
