Time went slowly.
Then he saw her. She was giving murmured good-byes to the people with whom she visited night after night. Now it was time to go, half an hour before the sound of curfew.
He saw her arms adjusting her cape over her head, in the age-old motion of women.
Now she was walking hurriedly away from the shack, across the square, her low heels slipping on the loose gravel.
There was a moon, and its light struck her face gently, softly highlighting the sad loveliness of her features.
When she was some twenty yards away, Bolgar started after her.
He walked lightly, on his toes.
