“Her voice is.” He swallows. “I’m going to give it back to her—and then I’m going to let her spell me into oblivion.” I stand up and take his arm. “Well, I’m not letting her spell you into anything.” Penelope stands, too. “Me neither.” “We’ll have to hurry,” I say, “if we want to catch Philippa before she leaves for Smith’s meeting at Watford.” “‘We’?” Baz pulls away from me. “There’s no ‘we.’ You’re not all coming.” “I can stay here,” Shepard offers. Penelope frowns at him. “Oh no, I’m not letting anyone in this room out of my sight, ever again.”
