He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. He was almost frightening in silhouette, his hair uncontrollable under the best of circumstances, but that changed when you saw his face. That’s where you go wrong. The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. He taught her how to read and write in Latin and Greek, often rewarding her for her efforts with a flower or a trinket. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. She loped forward on unnaturally long legs and arms that swung loosely. Lucy stole her last chance to observe Martin Chen, looking provocatively into his 257 eyes as the door was shut.
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