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People slipped and slid through the darkness about them, holding lamps, torches, flashlights, and candles. It made Richard think of documentary films he had seen of schools of fish, glittering and darting through the ocean . . . Deep water, inhabited by things that had lost the use of their eyes.
    Richard followed the leather woman up some steps. Stone steps, edged with metal. They were in an Underground station. They joined a line of people waiting to slip through a grille, which had been opened a foot or so to uncover the door, which led out onto the pavement.
    Immediately in front of them were a couple of young boys, each with a string tied around his wrist. The strings were held by a pallid, bald man, who smelled of formaldehyde. Immediately behind them in the line waited a gray-bearded man with a black-and-white kitten sitting on his shoulder. It washed itself, intently licked the man’s ear, then curled up on his shoulder and went to sleep. The line moved slowly, as, one by one, the figures at the end slipped through the space between the grille and the wall and edged into the night. “Why are you going to the market, Richard Mayhew?” asked the leather woman, in a low voice. Richard still could not place her accent: he was beginning to suspect that she was African or Australian–or perhaps she came from somewhere even more exotic and obscure.Cheap Puma Slacker Shoes,Cheap Puma 
    “I have friends I’m hoping to meet there. Well, just one friend. I don’t actually know many people from this world. I was sort of getting to know Anaesthesia, but . . . ” he trailed off. Asked the question he had not dared to voice until this moment. “Is she dead?”
    The woman shrugged. “Yes. Or as good as. I trust your visit to the market will make her loss worthwhile.”
    Richard shivered. “I don’t think it could,” he said. He felt empty, and utterly alone. They were approaching the front of the line. “What do you do?” he asked.