Harrowhark turned around and said, curtly: “Well? Are we doing this or not, Lady Septimus?” “Oh, thank you—thank you,” Dulcinea said. Gideon was stupefied. Too many shocks in twenty-four hours shut down her thought processes. As Dulcinea stumped along the corridor, crutches clanging unharmoniously on the grille, and as Protesilaus hovered behind her a half step away as though desperate to just scoop her up and carry her, Gideon strode to catch up with her necromancer.
