Seriously? The dining hall? That's so tacky she almost laughs, in spite of the fear. Anyway - that's not exactly ideal. But - she can deal with it.
All right. I'll be the blonde woman sitting in the corner.
Which - that evening, there is a blonde woman sitting in the corner. This woman is most certainly unknown to John Mandrake. This is because she is not from Mandrake's world; she is, as a matter of fact, a refugee from Orlais, a woman named Mathilde whom Kitty had tentatively befriended on the way back from Ghislain. Having had the situation explained to her, she agreed readily to help out - though she seems to have come away with the impression that Mandrake was some former boyfriend of Kitty's, which Kitty is going to have to struggle to correct.
The table in the dining hall is, fortuitously, next to a small alcove used for storing various crates and barrels and the like. Crouched behind one of these, of course, is Kitty Jones. - What? She certainly wasn't going to miss this opportunity.
"Hello," says Mathilde, in an accent that doesn't sound much like one that a woman named "Alice Fitzpatrick" would have. Look, Kitty had short notice; she can hardly be blamed. "You are...Jean Manadrake?"
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All right. I'll be the blonde woman sitting in the corner.
Which - that evening, there is a blonde woman sitting in the corner. This woman is most certainly unknown to John Mandrake. This is because she is not from Mandrake's world; she is, as a matter of fact, a refugee from Orlais, a woman named Mathilde whom Kitty had tentatively befriended on the way back from Ghislain. Having had the situation explained to her, she agreed readily to help out - though she seems to have come away with the impression that Mandrake was some former boyfriend of Kitty's, which Kitty is going to have to struggle to correct.
The table in the dining hall is, fortuitously, next to a small alcove used for storing various crates and barrels and the like. Crouched behind one of these, of course, is Kitty Jones. - What? She certainly wasn't going to miss this opportunity.
"Hello," says Mathilde, in an accent that doesn't sound much like one that a woman named "Alice Fitzpatrick" would have. Look, Kitty had short notice; she can hardly be blamed. "You are...Jean Manadrake?"