’ A tiny giggle escaped her, and she lowered the pistol a trifle. "Has he escaped?" asked the thief-taker, faintly. . ‘You see, it’s difficult to do a service for someone when you don’t know who they are, or what they’re up to. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home. I'm not hungry. His tone was rough, almost threatening. She did not want to feel such negative emotion towards any member of her foster family.
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