“How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. "'This is the way in which I will serve all who attempt to apprehend me. The man pulled up his horse grumbling, and turned round. “I believe that you are quite safe. “It would be easier if Katy would just lay off. If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. She must weigh her situation. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room.
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