Round and round goes the Campaigner's handkerchief, in circles as wide and frantic as her eyes. There is fight left in the old girl, though perhaps as arbitrary as the victor's wont--unable to process defeat, she has grabbed a random tray, trying to polish it by elbow grease alone while she watches her supporters dwindle.

"Dauntless," says the Implacable Detective, with a knowing sigh, "reflections are overrated."