’ ‘I am whatever you like,’ he agreed pleasantly, ‘but nothing is going to stop me from searching for this dagger. He forced her arm back, away, stretching it out to keep the weapon at bay. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. Frequently she would doze in her chair; but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her. The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. “It isn’t only the dance,” she said.
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