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Cathy reached out and touched Lucy’s chin with her two fingers, gently commanding her attention. “It’s all right,” he said, reassuringly to the inquirer without. Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an interest in their proceedings, with the crew by whom she was surrounded. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap.
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