//A wink... what a strange, strange boy.//
Strange, after all means so many things - it brooks distrust and fear, at times, or pity, or fascination, or admiration. Or a strange mixture of them all. From Minnie's face, it would be difficult to say which she lived. From her mind it would be just as difficult - her mind was simply unsettled. A little thread had been nicked out from weave of her mind, and it snagged, as it were, when she walked.
"Good bye, then, sir." she murmured, with a mixture between a sigh and a frown.
She took up her tea and sipped off the rest. She did not leave right away - hers was the sort of nature that dreads the awkward, and there is a delicate awkwardness in remeeting in the street someone that one has just fare-thee-welled in the salon. She sipped her tea, and pulled out her wax tablet, opening it, and began to write notes.