"Come and see the lagoon in the moonlight. It was a sovereign easily earned. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. “Of course it is okay!” Cathy’s voice rose in volume and in pitch. Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. Sometimes when adrenaline rushes through a body.
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