*Ciara can only sigh softly; once more good intentions fail horribly. Well, not good, per say, but at least honest. She was beginning to wonder why she even tried with those that were not already bent to her will. Once more she'd managed to embarrass herself in public.
Self loathing aside, Ciara reflects on Chantey's words. How to make the woman understand she had been on the other side; and had hated it. That she still carried the scars after all these decades, both mental and physical. That the only reason she didn't limp like poor Martha was the care of a young Doctor on Waterton Street that looked after her and the other girls? The short answer was she couldn't, if the human woman would believe her at all.
So instead, she keeps the soft smile on her face, shrugging as best her tight outfit will allow.* Something to think on, I suppose. But I'm afraid I must be going as well; I have to see a man about a real estate negotiation and it seems time has slipped away from me. It's been a pleasure, Ms Jones; another time perhaps.
*She then turns to stand beside Lenny, offering a latex covered arm to him.* Walk me to my car, Mr Pope? I need to talk with you about an up-coming business meeting...