“If the real man feels as guilty as I do,” said Eugene, “he is remarkably uncomfortable.”

“Influence of secrecy,” suggested Lightwood.

“I am not at all obliged to it for making me Guy Fawkes in the vault and a Sneak in the area both at once,” said Eugene. “Give me some more of that stuff.”

Lightwood helped him to some more of that stuff, but it had been cooling, and didn’t answer now.

“Pooh,” said Eugene, spitting it out among the ashes. “Tastes like the wash of the river.”

“Are you so familiar with the flavour of the wash of the river?”

“I seem to be tonight. I feel as if I had been half drowned, and swallowing a gallon of it.”

“Influence of locality,” suggested Lightwood.