He opened a door backstage and found himself in the same corridor he and Betsy had started in. There was the door to the loo, just opposite. If Betsy had stumbled onto this doorway, she had stepped right into the shadows behind the stage. And what had happened to her? Jarvey knew she was resourceful, quick and smart. He told himself she could get out of any trouble, that she could handle danger. He couldn’t help smiling when he remembered how, back in Lunnon, Betsy was such an expert thief that she could steal food right off the table without anyone’s noticing. She’d be all right on her own. She didn’t really need him to help her survive. Still, he needed her, and he didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t find her again. The Grimoire knew. It whispered to him to open the book, to get out of here, to leave her behind. “No,” he said to himself, not to the Grimoire. That was one thing he couldn’t do. But he was tired. He found a place to hide, crept into it, and curled up to grab what sleep he could.
