‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. A few short, dark locks, escaping from beneath her head-dress, showed that her hair had been removed, and had only been recently allowed to grow again. ‘Now then,’ said the captain sternly, ‘I’m not going to ask you what you’re doing here. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade.
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