“Jesus, Cormoran,” Robin was saying. “When was the last time you cleaned this place? I mean really cleaned, not just waved a rag about then went for a boozer.”
Cormoran was trying very hard not to stare at Robin’s arse as she stood on a chair, clearing cobwebs from the corner of his office.
“What?” he asked intelligently.
“I’m risking life and limb to help you,” she laughed. “You could at least pay attention!”
“Sorry,” he said, wincing.
“God, it’s an ashtray up here. How’ve the spiders survived this long?”
“I thought they hadn’t.”
“For their sake, I hope not!”