” She rested the firing end of the cannon against her own temple. If I'd been in the way, instead of Jonathan Wild, that accident wouldn't have happened. He gave glimpses of possibilities. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy. ‘But don’t let me stop you from going to see Charvill. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming. "I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene. Reaction set in and she leapt at him, beating at his chest with her fists. She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach.
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