It takes all of Shelly's resolve to stay still while the wolf approaches, and it comes as a great relief when Eques murmurs her observation that he seems to be, more or less, in as much posession of himself as he was when a man. The tales of werewolves being ravenous beasts, it would appear, are not altogether true.

Biting her lip, she steels herself, bends down a bit (but only a very small bit--good gracious, he's enormouse!), the better to return the wolf's gaze on his own level.

"Would you like to come in, Mr. Regnard? I was just about to sit down to a late tea."

... As a wolf, will he still enjoy tea...?