She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest. "Why, how the devil did you happen to guess that?" cried the janizary. ’ Gerald eyed her. "I've got a proposition to make," said O'Higgins.
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