I RETURNED TO the Royal Quarter alone. It was much changed by day, a desolate range of warehouses and tenements. But I could feel eyes on me. Shapes scurried behind shuttered windows. Whispers reached from darkened alleys. The stench of desperation whipped towards me on the cold breeze: gin, sweat, foul and diseased breath, unwashed clothing and flesh . . . beneath it all lay need and want, those ever-present demons.
Clearing his throat, Fagin stepped from a storefront and presented himself with a ridiculous flourish. “Good sir, kind sir, my heart fills at the sight of you—and that tasty bauble you wear.”
I peered down at the gleaming ruby ring perched upon my ring finger.
“Well, I must see what I can do to help you, mustn’t I?” He groveled before me, touching my waistcoat like a fool u
