“Well,” Cecily said kindly, “not chased all the way here. Only as far as Chiswick, I thought.” “What—” She smiled at him. “I am Will Herondale’s sister. You can’t expect me to be serious all the time.” His expression at that was so comical that she giggled; she was still giggling when they pushed the library door open and entered—and both stopped dead in their tracks.
