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The world isn't real yet; she hasn't comparisons by which to govern her acts. You are right. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. ‘Oh, have you? Well, in that case, I love your little booted feet, and your ridiculously long eyelashes, and—’ THANK YOU! Thank you so much for downloading and reading my book. Then the girl was heading past the inn and Roding marched down to confront her. By a sort of instinct.
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