Eliza, who did not find this a very satisfying answer, said nothing. Her silence caused Fatio to get that pleading look again. She turned away from him – the only alternative being to scoff and roll her eyes – and gazed down into the Plein. There something caught her eye: a long figure darkly cloaked, silver hair spilling out onto his shoulders. He had lately emerged from the Grenadiers' Gate, as if he had just excused himself from the party. A gust of steam flourished from his mouth as he shouted, 'How is the seeing tonight?'