Your diet must be about fifty-fifty, carrots and locoweed," Annie said softly.
He froze.
"I can't figure out what in the name of God's labia majora you think you're doing...but I'm impressed by how well you're doing it in the dark. You must have eyes like a cat.

Large men in black plate mail with red cloaks and plumes don't sneak worth a damn.

A petty sneaking thief I knew - / O! Mr Cr-, how do you do?

Wearing nothing but sweats and a sheer coat of lip gloss, she wiggle through her frosted window and jumped six feet to freedom, feeling more charged than a Visa card at Christmas time.

I've had this sneaking feeling throughout the game that it's there to be won.

Viktor looked at the older man’s nightshirt, robe, and nightcap. His lips quirked into a smile. “The hour is late, and the household sleeps. How is it that you are still awake?”
“I knew you would be knocking on the door sooner or later.” Pickles looked down his long nose at him. “You have passed the previous six nights with Her Ladyship.”
“You are observant, my good man.”
“No, Your Highness, I am the one who locks the door at night.” Pickles reached into his robe’s pocket and produced a key. He passed it to the prince, saying, “After tonight, let yourself into the
house.”
Viktor grinned at the majordomo and lifted the key out of his hand. “Your trust honors me.”
“You are unlikely to abscond with the silver,” Pickles drawled.