Annette Marceau stood in the bucking passageway of the traincar with the epitome of feline grace. She rocked gently on the balls of her feet, and appeard to be a solid form that the traincar rolled around. She had her back to Villenueve's compartment when she took her compact out of her purse. Slightly tilting the mirror, she could see over her shoulder to the compartment door, and she applied her lipstick as perfectly as if she were watching her own lips and not that door.

She saw the man peer from the door, come out with Villenueve's violin case, and run down the hallway behind her. She made no move to stop him, and she spoke only to her reflection in the tiny mirror.
"Ampereheure, il l'a...Je l'obtiendrai pour ceci!!"

**the delicate sub-titles around her feet= "Ah, he has it! I'll get him for this!!**

~A.M.