She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. "You'll find a waterman asleep under his tilt in one of them ere craft, if you look about, Sir," replied Ben, backing water as he spoke. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. "I've been to all the flash cases in town, and can hear nothing of him or his wives. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild. The day had become suddenly overcast. It gave him plenty of time to obsess over his random crushes, which worried her. Wood, by whom it was formerly occupied.
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