Stephen had rather wanted to talk with Henry Winter at length, if for no other reason than to cement his hopeful deduction that Henry's recent wedding had well and truly laid to rest the remnants of old animosity concerning the woman who was now Mrs. Winter. Unfortunately, there had simply been no time for conversation. Stephen had brought little
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"I think she might," said Stephen. "God help me if I should ask her. What she could make of me then I should not like to contemplate."
A pause, then a query he did think it relatively safe to pose:
"What did Camilla think of it?"
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"Camilla does not crave," he said aloud, answering Stephen's question rather than speculating on the potion itself. "Not in the way most people do. There are things she wants, some of them quite strongly, but I think that for her, one experience with that would be enough." The similarities to the bacchanal would almost certainly sway her more than it was swaying him; she knew it would be a terrible idea and didn't want it ( ... )
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Henry's words, though, made him wish he had gone outside, to look through telescopes, and hear the sounds of night birds, and -- oh, any number of things.
He was quiet, then.
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"It really is unfortunate," he said at last, "that such senses surely are so very bad for us. Susan did us no favors, though she wanted to, and thought she was. For most people even a taste of that could be addictive, common sense notwithstanding. Camilla and I were fortunate, in that we didn't run across any people, anything that could have caused harm. On the grounds at least no one can die, but I'm not sure I like to think of what could happen to a person so...so blissed-out, to use the hippie term...on that potion." If he told himself that, it helped ease that want, but it couldn't banish it entirely; it was an irrational want, and though it was very minor, it was all the more noticeable for that. "Perhaps it might be better that you didn't go outside, especially that night. God knows what might have happened."
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"What might have happened?" He coughed with the last of the laughter. "We intended to conquer Europe, as I remember. Shaun would have assisted with a cricket bat. One hopes we would not have made it off school grounds."
He coughed again, and wiped his eyes.
"Sweet Mother of God, it beggars the imagination."
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He wasn't really joking, either; there were quite a few people here who could have done some really terrible things, had they gone off-grounds that night. "You and Susan and Shaun with his cricket bat. "And what would you have done with it, or did you even plan that far?"
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His expression went neutral. "In her own way, she's very dangerous," he said, thinking of the ravine, of her going with him to check Bunny's dying pulse. "All the more so because no one would suspect it of her."
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"Those are the most dangerous sort," he agreed gravely.
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"They have an advantage, in a way," he said thoughtfully. "Those who can lull everyone into a false sense of security. Ryder, now--this serial-killing demon--clearly thought Camilla was completely defenseless when he first met her. I was watching when he learned otherwise; it was a very small thing, a small moment, but his surprise was obvious. He didn't look at either myself or Susan that way--only Camilla. Something about her suggests a certain helplessness, I suppose, at least to people who don't know her."
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On a different note altogether, Stephen found it promising that Henry should, in his diffident way, be so forthcoming in conversation as this -- and concerning such a subject, concerning this subject in particular. The wedding invitation in itself could have meant any number of things, from the most blatant to more subtle gradations of communication. It could have been the baldest territoriality, the logical extension of Henry's remark to Stephen once: Camilla was spoken for, he'd said, cold and taut, and what was a marriage but the underscoring of that claim? Thus the invitation meant little to Stephen by way of settling old scores, particularly since it had been extended by Henry rather than Camilla. It could have been a ( ... )
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"It really is," he said. "Those who appear harmless can often do more damage than those who don't." It was one of the huge differences between Camilla and Susan, really--Camilla was able to inspire all sorts of strange confidences from people; inspire them to tell far more than they would probably like. She was beguiling, whereas Susan had all the subtlety of a brick. Also like a brick, she was much better at smashing than anything else.
He shook his head, looking at Xipe Totec again. "Roses," he said. "I grew roses, before. I think I'd like a garden again." A pause, and he laughed quietly. "Susan said she'd help me, if I'd let her. I think that would not end well, personally."
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The gleam of a scythe in his mind's eye gave him a momentary chill, dampening his amusement.
"Would you like a hand with that lump of heathen nonsense, or shall I leave you to it?"
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