The Outlaws Scarlett and Browne

He hovered there, uncertainly. “I’m not good with heights, you know.”
“Yeah. I do know. My gods, do I know. Well, you can either jump and land on your feet, or I’ll push you out and you’ll land on your head. What’s it to be?”

“I’m sure there are wolves around. Savage ones. They’ll be drawn by the scent. You’ll open the window and find me gone. Just my trainers left, with my little feet inside them.”
“There are no wolves in Lechlade. And if there are, I won’t forget you – I’ll keep your feet as a memento. Oh, stop looking so miserable.”

Albert shook his head in wonder. “Your behaviour surprises me. What next? Are you going to kick him while he’s down? Why not rob the fellow too?”
There was a pause. “You know,” Scarlett said slowly, “that last one is an excellent idea.”

“Keep it down,” she hissed. “If you’re dying, do it quietly”.

“I meant to tell you,” she said. “You did well today.”
“Today?”
“The chase. The Tainted. The whole thing.”
“Oh.” He frowned. “I don’t think I actually did anything.”
“Exactly. You didn’t fall in the river, or hit me with the oar, or squeal annoyingly at key moments… Basically you managed to avoid cocking things up.”

She took a long, slow breath to calm herself. In the previous twenty-four hours, she had killed four men, committed a bank robbery, walked many miles across difficult country, been squashed by a bear, and acquired the unwanted company of an idiot. By any standards it had been a long day.