The vast area in front of Westminster Hall was thronged with people, and it was only by a vigorous application of their staves that the constables could force a passage for the vehicle. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. Larry would be up soon. That there Frenchie didn’t look any too friendly to me. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery.
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