"They are neither still, nor life, and unless I am much confused about their nature spirits wear nothing but the stuff they are made of, so I should judge them nudes," Alexandrie replies lightly, as if she were speaking on a much more pleasant subject. After taking a ladylike swig of her prize, she produces a handkerchief to wipe the top of the bottle, and briefly takes Myr's hand to press the bottle into it safely on her way to join the little sordid gathering.

"My apologies, Lord Benedict," she says, watching her step as she maneuvers about to see this unknown fellow's work. Her mouth opens again afterwards, as if she means to deliver another remark, but she closes it again instead. She's done enough by Bene, and he'd done nothing to merit any further unkindnesses.