Bowing at the door, Manon wore her usual perfect maid's practiced smile. Yet her clasped hands trembled faintly, and deep within her eyes flickered an unconcealable mix of hostility and fear. She stood there, steeling herself with the tragic resolve to "swallow every demand this man makes, for Bocchan's sake." She waited with bated breath to see what command you would give, or whether he would reach for her body.