( Daphne Spinster's POV )
Declair turned her back on two classes and faced mine.
Nadia was still holding Lucan's collar.
She let go of it. She put herself at the front of Greywall, in front of thirty-six people who had just been hit and were waiting to be told what to do next, and she had nothing in her hands and nothing coming.
I could not send her anything. She knew that. Everyone on that bank knew it, because they had all watched three cards land in her hand inside twenty seconds and then nothing.
A class whose leader is finished is a class that can be read.
Declair had worked that out before she started walking. I am fairly sure of it. She looked at Nadia's hands for a long moment before she opened her mouth, and people do not look at hands unless they are counting.
She talked for some time.
I could not hear one word of it.
I have spent this whole term finding that irritating. I have spent today finding out what it actually is.
