" "Very true," chuckled Jackson; "very true. He placed his chin upon the top of her head. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. “You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter. I don’t see what you can have to say. “Which one?” “The one whose life you have been making a burden, who has been all the time shielding her sister. ‘You mean I should give myself a dressingdown? Very well.
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