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“A death’s-head hawkmoth,” she said. “Found it on my windowsill this morning. Already dead. I thought you’d appreciate the irony.”
“Tell me about the moth,” he said, holding it up to the weak light filtering through the dusty blinds. Lady K and the Sick man
“Take his last word,” she whispered. “It’s ‘K.’” “A death’s-head hawkmoth,” she said
“You’re still breathing,” she replied. “It evens out.” “A death’s-head hawkmoth
“Of course I did. But that doesn’t make it untrue.”
“You brought me a dead thing to cheer me up,” he said.