Ms. Madison, dressed in a stylish gown, looked down the somewhat dusty main street of Saint Catherine, the little tom below Mount Sinai, with something bordering on disgust.
'Somehow,' she sighed, 'I thought it 'ld be bigger, with a nice proper hotel, not an assortment of bungalows.'
'You should have come here before the new hotels,' the Green Man shook his head. 'There was only a run-down inn.'
'Then I wouldn't 've come,' the blonde made a face.'You know, Green Man, I can't understand how you can take some of the places you stay in.'
'The need for justice, my dear Madison,' the Green Man replied simply. 'What else?'
'Where to?' Ms. Madison looked around her.
'We climb Mount Sinai at dawn.' The Green Man chuckled. 'I shall do so alone, you will go with a party of tourists. Do not oversleep, remember, Monty Bristow does not sleep...'
'That's a lie,' Ms. Madison protested, 'he doesn't have bags under his eyes - but I shall after tomorrow!'