Melusine saw fire in his eyes and a streak of heat rushed through her to match it. Just as he was about to drain it, he encountered the basilisk glance of Jonathan Wild, and paused. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. Brendon made a quick movement forward. But this time she wanted nothing for herself: she wanted something for Hoddy—success.
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