"The square there. Queen to F7. Are you blind, or does galloping stupidity run in your damned family?"
Splendor jerked up her chin, staring at him through her spectacles. The terrible thing? The sole reason the queen wasn't just to F7, why the queen wasn't in places the sun was unfamiliar with shining on? He actually thought he could play chess. If Splendor hadn't known the privations of the Marshalsea, she'd have taken offense. But she had met far more delusional souls in there. Mrs. Bates, in the neighboring cell, had been convinced she was the queen of England's cat. Then there was Snowdrop-Lord Snowdrop of Havistock Woods, no less-who'd wandered about seeing bulbs everywhere, trying to pull them out too.