A small blonde woman sees him turning away, and pursues him down the wet, dark sidewalks.

"Excuse me. I wonder if I could ask you for some help."

The large, broad shouldered gentleman in the Renaissance cape turns around at the sound of her small, gentle voice, and his chivalrous instinct comes to the fore.

"Of course! What can I do for you?"

" I wonder if you might have half an hour or so to spare with me., I have been through a very hard time, lately, and I need a shoulder to lean on. And I am sitting in that little tavern down there...", gesturing at the distant puddle of lamplight on the sidewalk, "and feeling very alone. And I would really appreciate it if you would just come and sit by me for a while and talk, or let me talk, and help me remember songs....I can't seem to think of any!"

He is taken aback; but her deep blue, saddened eyes, tear-streaked face and determined energy are more than he can deny. He offers her a smile, a small bow, and his right arm, as he turns back toward the distant tavern.

"I am at your service, as soon as you tell me your name, and what sort of libation you might prefer this e'en, fair ladye!"

She smiles up at his towering, protective,helpful face.

"I am Ilke. I enjoy a small glass of akvavit from time to time, when I am feeling sad!"

"Then it shall be three akvavits for us, this evening."

Their shadowy forms are dappled and briefly illuminated by the window's lights as they arrive at the ancient oaken door, swing it back once more on its oiled iron hinges, and find a small table just past the concertina player, who is squeezing out the refrains of "Long Long Trail A-Winding". For some reason some of the light stays in their faces as they begin to make friends.