“George!” Marine called out as her gaze followed him.
“Miss Lucinda!” a voice from somewhere called out to her.
Astound to see George after three long years, she failed to respond to the voice calling her. Saying his name, she tried going after him amidst all that chaos, when someone held her back.
“Miss Lucinda! What are you doing here?” Dermot, enquired in disbelief, while Marine’s attention remained fixed on the crowd running hither thither. “Miss Lucinda, I am talking to you,” he raised his voice so he could be heard in all that chaos.
Marine shifted her gaze over him, but her thoughts were still occupied with George. Dermot was dressed like a nomad with a sack over his back and eatables and weapons hanging from the hooks of his waistband. “Miss Lucinda, can you hear me? For Chris
