By Robert Rodgers
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Extra resources for Arcadia Snips and the Steamwork Consortium
Of course. We shall leave at once," he told her. "We apologize for bothering you with this trifling matter. " Abigail glared. " She gestured for the gentlemen to follow; it was then that she noticed both were carrying umbrellas with peculiar stylized hilts. "Are you daft? " Nigel asked, then shrugged. This gave Abigail pause, but she was quick to brush it aside. She led them both to the exit, opening the door and stepping aside to let them leave. Before she could slam the door shut, both had turned to face her.
Of course. " ~*~ "You are quite lucky to be alive," Count Orwick said from across his desk. "How fortunate that Mr. " "He could have been softer," Snips replied. She was seated in an obscenely comfortable chair in the middle of Orwick's rather expensive office, trying to wriggle her way out of a pair of manacles. They consisted of no more than two solid chunks of iron fused together at the wrists; she wasn't sure how they came off. She wasn't sure they were supposed to. " Count Orwick smiled. "I have pulled several considerable favors.
Don't tell me you're going to get on Nigel's case about the 'gentleman' thing, Abigail. " Abigail reasoned. "And I am certainly no gentleman. " "To what? ‘The Society of Distinguished People’? It makes it sound like some sort of book-of-the-month club," Jeremiah said. "The Society of Distinguished Gentlemen rolls off the tongue. " "It is an exclusionary name," Abigail snapped. " "I agree with Abigail," Nigel said. " Jeremiah spluttered. "Her point is valid, Jeremiah. We are in the 19th century, yes?