"I’m glad," he said. "Otherwise, they would have gotten us. Gotten me, anyway." And suddenly he was weirdly and entirely present, a single entity, the sharp looker-around-corners merged seamlessly with his spacey, dissociated self. "I wouldn’t have gotten to go to Southwark." For those few seconds, he was someone she hadn’t met. But then he was Milgrim again. "That’s a scary shower," he said.