Edmund felt himself blush openly as the young woman stared at him.  It was true that he had always been somewhat of a cad, but the feeling of usefulness that was building in him made him realize how much he depended on the girl, and something in him needed it to be said.  He had not admitted it yet, but there was another reason he needed it to be said.<br/><br/>“No fault of mine, perhaps,” he consented, “but for once, I felt it needed to be said.  And to be honest…something frightens me about this case.  The brutality of it all, the extraordinary measures of violence over what…a doll?  I…I just wanted my appreciation to be spoken in case…”<br/><br/>He trailed off.  He’d never been very good at confronting his own mortality.  Words failed to come, but thankfully he was excused from having to speak further, as the carriage arrived at the station house.  He coughed, and turned away, embarrassed by the whole situation.  Just as quickly, though, he shifted gears, and resumed the mask of the confident, brilliant detective.<br/><br/>“We’ve arrived, Ms. Annabelle!” he announced over loud, so that the coachman could hear, “And soon, we shall have the clues we need to capture this fiend!  Come – let us away to the station house, and begin piecing this mystery together!”<br/>