Certainly, Doctor. Let's talk about your chair. Victorian?

A genius. A criminal mastermind. A millionaire. And he is only twelve years old.

A metaphorical weight lifted from his allegorical chest and Artemis Fowl felt himself again.

Miss me? Bet you did ... so would I.

Well, I don't like the first bit and I don't know the last bit. So I'm really hoping the middle bit is exceptional.

How did that go?’ he asked. ‘Your first lengthy conversation with a girl your own age?’ ‘Fabulous,’ said Artemis, voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘We’re planning a June wedding.

Her glare was so intense that you completely forgot she was wearing pink.