Katerina felt like an impostor entering the bank. Banks belonged to another world where people had jobs and money and somewhere to live. She half-imagined that the plate-glass doors wouldn't slide back for her or that the uniformed security guard would step into her path to challenge her. The doors slid open and no one confronted her. There was an outer lobby where the walls were ranked with cash and paying-in machines, like slot-machines, thought Katerina, only not so colourful. Several people were using them or waiting to use them standing in solemn silence so that the air itself seemed hushed, holding back the steady thrum of traffic whose tides ceaselessly rose and fell beyond the sacred halls of cash. Umbrella-man was not there although this was no surprise: it had been almost an hour since their brief encounter.
     Katerina literally pushed on to the inner chamber, putting her shoulder against a heavy, wood-framed rotating door to find herself in the warm, carpeted hall of desks and counters and nests of coloured, velvet chairs on which people waited for their appointments. Neatly dressed people, well groomed attendants, assistant managers and sales representatives, walked silently over the blue carpet carrying clipboards and looking dauntingly official. Katerina's hesitation caused an approach from one of these people, "Can I help you?" asked the attendant.
     "I just came back to collect my umbrella," said Katerina and walked resolutely to the counter to retrieve the dark blue, gold-crowned umbrella, that leant, abandoned there. She returned to the noisy street with some relief. She felt comfortable here, amid the stately buildings, the unrelenting traffic and the high, open sky. The sky was a thin sheet of silver and pearl with the softened sunlight streaming through it. A misty sky but not a sign of a real rain cloud. She smiled at the umbrella in her hand. It was never going to rain! And what was she going to do with his umbrella? Now she had two things that belonged to umbrella-man but the chances of returning them were next to zero! Still, she liked having them, even if the full-length umbrella was something less than convenient and if she didn't see umbrella-man again, she could always hand them in later.
     Katerina turned her attention to more pressing matters. It wasn't even noon yet but she had to find somewhere she could spend the night. Perhaps she had overreacted to the encounter in the station? Hyena-man was just an unpleasant memory, nothing more threatening. But she was uncertain. He had had a powerful and malicious presence. If there was such a card he would be 'Demon of Swords' but the cards had no monsters in their numbers: mysteries and dangers, friends and teachers but not monsters, even the Devil could only tempt you, could only harm you by consent and, as Lucifer, always showed the bright path that cast the shadow of the dark. She paused on the kerb, already dismissing her fears as exaggerated. She had, at least, made a few contacts on the station and knew how to keep out of the way there and where to hide relatively safely. And, of course, the Knight of Cups, might come through again.