Phineas raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at Eliza. To his mild disappointment, she wasn't far from the truth.

"I've got a little apartment on the Thames. Yes, lots of books, all of them well-read. Not a very cheerful place, I'm afraid. All the wood's stained dark and the lights are rather dim. I think. To be honest, I don't spend a lot of time there. I can't actually remember the last time I slept in my own bed." He sighed. "Job keeps me busy. I imagine there's a generous helping of dust on all the upholstery. For all I know, someone else might be living there. Gypsies, most like." 

At the top of his vision, Phineas noticed a small spot of red on the horizon. He squinted, and was able to make out the shape of a circle of trees around a small pool of shimmering water. [i]An oasis,[/i] he thought to himself. A small red canvas hut was flapping in the wind, and Phineas could discern a thin road winding southeast from the camp. He hiked his bag up onto his shoulders and picked up his pace as the sun breached the hills to his left.