And I find perfect beauty excessively boring, don't you?

Felicity grimaced in agreement. “No, you are perfectly correct. I did not realize how vital the approbation of one’s butler is in allowing for nocturnal autonomy.

Well, my love,” said Alexia with prodigious daring to Lord Maccon, “shall we?” The earl started to move forward and then stopped abruptly and looked down at her, not moving at all. “Am I?” “Are you what?” She peeked up at him through her tangled hair, pretending confusion. There was no possible way she was going to make this easy for him. “Your love?” “Well, you are a werewolf, Scottish, naked, and covered in blood, and I am still holding your hand.” He sighed in evident relief. “Good. That is settled, then.

No one ever explained the octopuses.

There are words to describe her, my dear, but one does not repeat them in polite company.

What do you want?" Sophronia was moved to exasperation. "Me? Stockings and breeches to come back in fashion. I do miss seeing a man's calves.

Professor Braithwope, shimmering out of his room fully clothed and dapper. His mustache was a fluffy caterpillar of curiosity, perched and ready to inquire, dragging the vampire along behind it on the investigation.