I'm trying to figure out how someone could live in a brothel for a month and not notice. You must be terribly dull-witted."
Tessa glared.
"If it helps at all, it seemed to be quite a high-class establishment. Nicely furnished, fairly clean..."
"Sounds as if you've visited your fair share of brothels," Tessa said, sourly. "Making a study of them?"
"More of a hobby," said Will, and smiled like a bad angel.

As the carriage whipped forward, they passed the alley she had spent so many days staring at—it was there, and then gone as they careened around a corner, nearly knocking over a costermonger pushing a donkey cart piled high with new potatoes. Tessa screamed.

Will reached past her and yanked the curtain shut. "It's better if you don't look," he told her pleasantly.

"He's going to kill someone. Or get us killed."

"No, he won't. Thomas is an excellent driver."

Tessa glared at him. "Clearly the word excellent means something else on this side of the Atlantic.

Of course, the guests were also staring because they know of my relationship with Camille, and are wondering what we might be doing here in the library... alone." He wiggled his eyebrows at Tessa.

It is the mundanes who look at me and see something they do not understand—a boy who is not quite white and not quite foreign either."
"Just as I am not human, and not demon either," Tessa said softly.
His eyes softened. "You are human," he said. "Never think you are not. I have seen you with your brother; I know how you care for him. If you can feel hope, guilt, sorrow, love—then you are human.

wanting what you could not have led to misery and madness

Gideon Lightwood said he was at the Institute in Madrid. What on earth was he doing there?'
'Faffing about, most likely', said Will.