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She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. She knew that her voice was superior to Annabel’s, and she had no further qualms. The sunshine broke across each shoulder, one lance striking the yellow face of a Chinaman, queueless and dressed in European clothes, the other lance falling squarely upon the face of the man he had journeyed thirteen thousand miles to find. Lucy wore it every day from then on. Many of the soldiers dismounted, and called for drink. His vision was becoming accustomed to the faint light now and her features were clearer. An early bird clarinetist burst through in a long black skirt, swishing like a bell.
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