"Admired Miranda!"
February 1st
One look at the street on which the Palamon brothel stood sank Puck's heart. If Hermia had seen where her beloved cousin had been going all these months, she would have lost her mind. It was hardly the worst place to be found in the Old City, but it was dark and lined with nooky buildings and alleys in which people could be easily lost. For all Puck knew, every building could have been filled by honest people. His gut told him otherwise, and his mind told him to keep walking.
The inside of the brothel was a relief: it was calm and relatively clean. Puck had aimed for the common supper hour, that the place might be as empty as possible. There was only one other person in the room. The young woman behind the counter had a gimlet eye turned on him. Self-conscious, he smoothed out his coat.
"Can I help you?"
"Can I help you?"




