The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters

her voice.
    “But they did not enlist you,” she said. “Miss Poole told the Comte and Caroline that you were quite a nuisance.”
    Elöise exhaled heavily and shrugged Miss Temple’s words away. “The Doctor rescued me from an attic, and then was taken. I followed, with his gun, and tried to rescue him in turn. In the process—I’m sorry, it is difficult to speak of it—I shot a man. I shot him dead.”
    “But that is excellent, I’m sure,” replied Miss Temple. “I have not shot anyone, but I have killed one man outright and another by way of a cooperative coach wheel.” Elöise did not reply, so Miss Temple helpfully went on. “I actually spoke of it—well, as much as one speaks of anything—with Cardinal Chang, who you must understand is a man of few words—indeed, a man of
mystery
—the very first time I laid eyes upon him I knew it was so—granted, this was because he was wearing all red in a train car in the very early morning holding a razor and reading poetry—and wearing dark spectacles, for he has suffered injury to his eyes—and though I did not know him I did remark him, in my mind, and when I saw him again—when we became comrades with the Doctor—I knew who he was at once. The Doctor said something about him—about Chang—just now, I mean to say, in the theatre—I didn’t make sense of any of it for that abominable shouting and the smoke and the fire—and do you know, it is a queer thing, but I have noticed it, how at times the extremity of, well,
information
, assaulting one of our senses overwhelms another. For example, the
smell
and the
sight
of the smoke and flames absolutely inhibited my ability to
hear
. It is exactly the sort of thing I find fascinating to think on.”
    They walked for a moment before Miss Temple recalled the original drift of her thought.
    “But—
yes
—the reason I spoke to Cardinal Chang—well, you see, I must explain that Cardinal Chang is a
dangerous
man, a very deadly fellow—who has probably killed a man more often than I have purchased shoes—and I spoke to him about the men I had killed, and—well, honestly it was very difficult to talk about, and what he ended up telling me was exactly how someone like myselfought to use a pistol—which was to grind the barrel as tightly into the body of your target as you can. Do you see my point? He was telling me what to
do
as a way of helping me sort out how to
feel
. Because at the time, I had no idea how to talk of anything. Yet these things that have happened—they tell us what kind of world we are in, and what sort of actions we must be prepared to take. If you had not shot this fellow, would either yourself or the Doctor be still alive? And without the Doctor to take me off that table, would I?”
    Elöise did not answer. Miss Temple saw her wrestling with her doubts and knew from experience that to overcome those doubts and accept what had occurred was to become a significantly less innocent person.
    “But this was the Duke of Stäelmaere,” Elöise whispered. “It is assassination. You do not understand—I will assuredly hang!”
    Miss Temple shook her head.
    “The men
I
killed were villains,” she said. “And I am sure this Duke was the same—most Dukes are simply
horrid—
”
    “Yes, but no one will care—”
    “Nonsense, for I care, as you care, as I am sure Doctor Svenson cared—it is the exact heart of the matter. What I do
not
give a brass farthing for is the opinion of our enemies.”
    “But—the
law
—their word will be believed—” Miss Temple gave her opinion of the law with a dismissive shrug.
    “You may well have to leave—perhaps the Doctor can take you back to Macklenburg, or you can escort my aunt on a tour of Alsatian restaurants—but there is always a remedy. For example—look how foolish we are, waltzing along who knows where without a second’s thought!”
    Elöise looked behind them, gesturing vaguely. “But—I thought—”
    “Yes, of course.” Miss Temple nodded. “We will surely be pursued,but have either of us had the presence of mind to look through the Doctor’s pockets? He is a resourceful man—one never knows—my father’s overseer would not step foot from his door, as a rule, without a knife, a bottle, dried meat, and a twist of tobacco that could fill his pipe for a week.” She smiled slyly. “And who can say—in the process it may afford a glimpse into the secret life of Doctor Svenson …”
    Elöise spoke quickly.