Madame Vastra and the others made their return to Paternoster Row by a circumspect route. Strax in particular was keen to intercept any individual he suspected might be following and forcibly remove a variety of their limbs and appendages. But Jenny prevailed upon him that most of the people he singled out were merely walking past. Given the lateness of the hour there were, thankfully, not many.
‘What about him?’ Strax said, pointing to a figure shambling slowly along on the opposite pavement.
‘That old lady is selling lucky heather, and she’s heading in a different direction so she’s unlikely to be following us.’
‘She could be bluffing. And who is this Lucky Heather anyway?’
‘It’s heather – it’s a plant not a person. It’s supposed to be lucky.’
‘Not if I catch her, it won’t be.’
‘Strax,’ Vastra said simply. ‘No.

Author: Justin Richards