Yes, very well. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand. It does sound a little horrid to talk so much about oneself and to have views. She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home. He watched her, savoring her curious attention. ‘Have no fear,’ he uttered soothingly, reaching out to pat her free hand. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection.
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