“I think Toby’s allergic to subtle,” said Quentin. “It makes her break out in hives or something. There’s not another good explanation for why she is the way she is.” “Quiet, you,” I said. “We’re in mortal danger right now. This isn’t the time to be mean to me.” “We’re pretty much always in mortal danger. When is the time to be mean to you?” “How about next Tuesday?”
