"I did. Thank you," he said. "And now if you would kindly tell me the way to an HSBC I'd be very grateful.
     "It's very near," she told him and borrowed his pen to draw a simple plan on the serviette that lay untouched on the table. "That's terrific," he said, as though she had made it near especially for his convenience and with that glance that went a little too deep and drew her in a little too much. "Bye," she said awkwardly and a little abruptly, temporarily lost for words.
     The umbrella man smiled and turned away, "Cheers," he said.
     Oh hell, thought Katerina, as he left. He would think that she was rude or that she had taken offence at his 'come on' eyes. Well, he was only a guy in a crowd, she reminded herself. He was the Knight of Cups whispered her second voice. She ignored it. She forced herself to turn back to the paper that she had finished reading and not to watch him walk away across the wilderness of the glittering acreage of the great hall. "Poor goblin!" whispered the cards as she scooped them once more into her pocket.
     "Oh don't put them away," said a middle-aged lady with a small wheeled suitcase. "Someone said that I would find you here. That you did readings."
     "Yes, I do," said Katerina. "What do you want to ask?"

     Pleased with her morning's commerce, Katerina once again made her way to the station washrooms. She searched her pockets for the necessary thirty pence in change and her hand closed on a small, unexpected object. She brought it into the light for inspection but remembered what it was even before she saw it again: the young man's pen! The barrel was short and thick and weighed heavily in her hand. The pen itself was black and the lid was gold with a tiny, silvery-white flower shape or star inlaid into it. From the weight and the softness of its shine, Katerina was sure it was real gold. She had forgotten to return it! She flushed with embarrassment: supposing he thought she had kept it on purpose? How would she find him to give it back? "Hello, Pretty," said a deep male voice as she replaced the pen in her pocket and was forced to stop by someone blocking her path.
     "Excuse me," she said, not making eye contact and stepping to the side but the figure stepped to the side also and blocked her way again.
     "Are you all right, Pretty?"
     "Yes, I'm fine," she said. "Now please let me pass." She was annoyed but not alarmed. The station was busy and she was surrounded by the benign if somewhat indifferent presence of strangers. "Have you got a boyfriend, Pretty?"