“Yes, she was a scandal.
Her brother simply didn’t know it.
“I fell in the Serpentine today.”
“Yes, well, that doesn’t usually happen to women in London. But it’s not so much of a scandal as it is a challenge.”
The dead were her business. She lived with them, worked with them, studied them. She dreamed of them. And because that didn’t seem to be enough, in some deep, secret chamber of her heart, she mourned for them.
“You’ll tell me a story and I’ll spare you? You think I don’t see what you’re doing? I’ve read Arabian Nights.”
“Call me Scheherazade, baby! Actually, she’s one tricksy bitch. Who, by the way, still owes me twenty gold pieces and a pound of sesame.”