’ He reached into an inner pocket of his coat and brought out a packet of papers. " "Company!" echoed Rachel; "at this time of night?" "Company, child," repeated Kneebone. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. ‘And I do understand. “I expect it is pretty well in shreds by now.
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