He took another breath, his shoulders drooping. "I've been working a sweat up all night long, surviving entirely on coffee. And I didn't do much more than splash water and soap on my face before dressing up for the show." Anonymous picked anxiously at his cravat, unravelling it and flinging it over his shoulder before attacking the top buttons of his shirt. "I can almost feel the grease and sweat seeping into my linen shirt and wool suit every second that I continue to wear them."