But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. The younger of the two, who was seated next to Jack, and seemed to monopolize his attention, could not be more than seventeen, though her person had all the maturity of twenty. He would always be her friend, too. “Well?” she said. Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. He seemed to be labouring under some great excitement. A shaft of searing heat plunged downward. But he would make it a point not to speak again to the girl. “Thanks, I’m not very fond of coffee,” Anna answered, “and I hate music. They could not have called it a fatal motor accident if he had not been dead.
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