[Jacob says, a natural reaction to the sort of ridiculous claims he is used to hearing from the mentalists and the mediums in London, from the stupid stories Dickens Ghost Club believed. But they don't do it like this, quick and polite and to the point, like it's all a matter of fact, obvious to everyone who read today's copy of the Times.
Not that he has long to think, after the ultimatum, or offer, whatever it is, is delivered. And perhaps it's stupid, but he's intrigued. With a healthy dose of scepticism, of course.]
Let's try it your way, shall we? Are we going to fly up there?
no subject
[Jacob says, a natural reaction to the sort of ridiculous claims he is used to hearing from the mentalists and the mediums in London, from the stupid stories Dickens Ghost Club believed. But they don't do it like this, quick and polite and to the point, like it's all a matter of fact, obvious to everyone who read today's copy of the Times.
He's not ready to accept it, despite everything he's seen here, when she does... something. Proves it, he supposes, pre-empting the request he might have made. It's hard to tell what as it's done so quickly, but the stick is waved in the direction of the cobbles and suddenly they're... clean? Could it be a trick? Something set up to make him believe? Like a floating table at a séance? If it is a trick, it's a bloody impressive one. And strange too.
Not that he has long to think, after the ultimatum, or offer, whatever it is, is delivered. And perhaps it's stupid, but he's intrigued. With a healthy dose of scepticism, of course.]
Let's try it your way, shall we? Are we going to fly up there?