"Well, I trust I won't spend a night like last night either from now on. There's just some things I'll do for myself." He stepped forward, stuck his hand out the window, calmly, coolly, tilted the bottle. No. He wasn't going to think how this killed him, bled his heart, because it didn't. He'd asked for her help. Last night she hadn't prevented the fever, or the chills, but her being there had helped. So, while the shocking waste killed him, he'd do it. Manage to speak too. "So? How is it you know so much about this?"
"You mean when I'm a thief?"
"I never said that. I'm just asking if you're going to help me, how you know how to-"
"Matthew."
"Right."
"Yes. He was an invalid. All his life. Something wrong with his chest. He suffered fevers. Terrible ones."
He rolled his gaze heavenwards. "And you……
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