For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. "Shall I fetch the light, Captain?" whispered Blueskin. ‘But you,’ she said in the friendliest way imaginable, ‘are a person tout à fait sympathique, I think. Thankfully, he seemed pleased the moment he saw her face, which her mother had made her wash for weeks with the pulp of apples, orange water, and 21 extract of borage among other things.
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