Teddy overtook her, a little out of breath, his innocent face flushed, his straw-colored hair disordered. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. "But, let that pass. I tell you once more, I'll say and do nothing to get you into trouble. The first circumstance that struck her on her arrival seemed ominous. Sheila McCloskey was the real neighborhood watch. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground.
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