
“Angels taking the form of pigeons to spy on mortals? Of course it's funny. What? Are you being serious?”
“I don't joke about thinks like that.”
“But why would they need to? I thought they could change their size at will. 'Ten thousand angels dancing on the head of a pin', that sort of thing.”
“Technically, that's quite right. You're forgetting one thing, though. One fundamental thing about the nature of angels.”
“And what's that?”
“They have an inferiority complex as big as the Shard of Glass.” He released the clutch and pulled out, his three point turn briefly illuminating Mrs Parkes at her living room window. “Best put your seatbelt on.”
“I can survive any crash, you know.”
“But can you survive me being pulled over for having a passenger without a safety belt?” Harold glanced at him. “You're not rich yet, old son.”
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