We fly for two hours until reaching the train station where Mrs. Wrenshaw should have gotten off. The ticket she had revealed where it was, but not what time the train would have arrived.
To check whether she passed this way, Attou drops me down onto the platform where I've spotted several dogs standing with their owners. My heart shoots me with a brief pang as I notice that one of them is a Rottweiler just like Brennan, but I push the thought away and go over to talk to them, still maintaining my invisibility just in case Mrs. Wrenshaw is here.
As I approach the first two dogs, they c**k their heads. “Why try hide yourself?” one of them, a cocker spaniel, asks. For a moment I'm startled, surprised that she can see me, but then I remember that my suggestion to “see not” is only directed
