"And what was all that about, if I might ask?" Graham said stormily, yanking his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.
"What was all what?" Wren replied, still lost in thoughts.
"That whole thing with the blonde back there, and fixing me up on a date. I don't even know her!" He frowned. dark eyes flashing fire. Wren came to a stop abruptly, looking back at him with clear eyes for the first time in hours. This made him realize that the street was empty, like a string of black ribbon stretching across the city, with no thoughts for her to pry into and no voices to muddle her own.
"That woman back at the party?" Wren said softly
"Yes. Her."
"She was planning to kill herself tonight, as soon as she got home." After looking at him lingeringly for a moment, Wren turned and kept walking. Graham followed, slowly. He felt again that strange, unsettling tickle of awe that Wren inspired in him at moments like this. When all her flippancy and bluster dropped away and he realized the price her gift held, she suddenly frightened him.
"And the dance...helped?" He asked humbly after a few moments, his voice suddenly deep and gravely with respect.
"No, the dance was just to set you up for the date. I've never known a woman who had a date on Saturday to kill herself on Friday." Wren smiled. "Women are wonderful creatures that way. We can go from the depths of despair to the heavens of hope, all within the space of one dance. Funny isn't it?" She waved to a passing cabby and the car pulled up along them.
"Goodnight Graham." Wren said. "Sorry again, about Uvarsky."
"No, don't," He murmured. "We'll find a way to prove it all tomorrow. After all, that's my part of the job and not for you to worry about. You did good work tonight." He closed the door and raised a hand as the cab started off for the other side of the city.
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