A shaken but still breathing Doctor Blanche lay recovering from her ordeal whilst Danae rummaged the tucks and folds of fabric, a maze of pleats and gussets and lace accents and here and there, a surprise brush of quite ticklish skin. So many treasures for the discovering sprawled out beside the parlor fire, the fruits of Danae's search were as follows.<br/><br/>A small snap clasp purse in paisley white, containing a medical case with needle and stoppered vial, round-lensed glasses, hair comb, tins of rosin and wax, and accountrements of beauty.<br/><br/>A silver chatelaine containing tiny scissors, vesta, tuners, and toggle tool for unlocking porcelain masks.<br/><br/>Skirt lifters concealing folded fan, perfumed white gloves, lace hankie holder on silver ring, and tiny skeleton keys to unlock prisoner manacles.<br/><br/>At last, a large brassy key tarnished from handling, identical to Doctor Noire's door key.<br/><br/>Once Doctor Blanche recovered her senses and felt her neck still intact, she reluctantly addressed Aloisa.<br/><br/>"Once I had the measure of you," Doctor Blanche groaned, "it became clear the only tool in your repetoire for winning your freedom is force. I<em>did </em>try to help you, this is the truth. I would have thrown an empassioned audience against your jailors and given you a chance, at least. But so beholden are you to your illusions of civility, it's back to mired in these useless whiffle-whaffles."<br/><br/>"We have tried doing this the civil way, as a consortium of doctors, and it hasn't worked. I would have you embrace your madness and in one swoop seize power and expose the imposters among us."<br/><br/>Eloise remained where she had been instructed to sit, not possessed even of the curiosity to turn her head once the violence was underway. She remained catatonic, or perhaps empty-headed, as a guiding hand was sufficient to coax her back upstairs to the withdrawing room.<br/><br/>Doctor Blanche, given the choice, voiced a preference Aloisa make good on her threat and leave her to her fate. Even so, she was in no condition to refuse an insistent escort upstairs.<br/><br/>But the masked lunatics let loose in the upstairs halls were still amok, stopped only by the withdrawing room doors. It was not safe to venture out from there in search of change of clothes, lest a confrontation unfold right there in the dark corridor.<br/><br/>Margaret, Michelle and Zoe, catatonic Eloise, masked Emma and Delphine and six unidentified lunatics, and perhaps Doctor Blanche, too, all crowded into the withdrawing room whose windows faced the flashing lightning. There were precious few seats to go around, but light enough to see by.<br/><br/>"It's a bit like the saloon, isn't it," said Michelle. "Like being stuck in the saloon on the voyage, and listening to...the waves outside."