a reed in a
a reed in a winter storm. His skin was tight and hot to the touch, as Maria evidently learned when she reached up to help him down the ladder onto her halfdeck. “Look—you—” was all he managed before another coughing fit took him and Maria got him safely planted. She gave no real outward sign that she was alarmed, though—just a slight tightening of her lips and a frightened widening of her eyes.
“Think we’d better come along, Maria,” Marco continued, in what he hoped was a bantering tone of voice—for though they seemed to be alone, there was no telling who had eyes and ears in the shadows or above the canal. “Afraid milord is likely to be a handful. Won’t like being told what to do.” That last was for Aldanto’s benefit. While he talked,
“Think we’d better come along, Maria,” Marco continued, in what he hoped was a bantering tone of voice—for though they seemed to be alone, there was no telling who had eyes and ears in the shadows or above the canal. “Afraid milord is likely to be a handful. Won’t like being told what to do.” That last was for Aldanto’s benefit. While he talked,