She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. "No such thing," rejoined Thames. Beyond was a narrow bridge, crossing a circular building, at the bottom of which lay a deep well. " He smiled at her as he smiled at death, cheerfully. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws.
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