In a whisper, I demanded, “What do you want of me?”
Usk husked out his own words. “Prof’d be a tad peeved, if’n he found out you was keyholing him.”
I adopted my most winsome ways. “Must you tell him?”
“Not if’n I don’t choose to.”
“And what could possibly induce you to choose such a merciful course?”
“Let’s say if’n I were to receive certain favours from a certain lady—favours which I’d be more than happy to make explicit to you. Tonight, for instance, after your work’s all done.”
Usk’s grip tightened on my ankle—the rough skin of his palm feeling like scales—and I quailed interiorly. But he had me in a bind. I certainly did not wish to appear a sneak and gossip in the eyes of Professor Fluvius. No, I had to submit.
“Where should we meet?”
“I dwell in the lowest cellar, by the boi
