He sat with his back to the door, and she slipped in quietly, unnoticed, bright hair covered by a demure black scarf, half of her face hidden by enormous dark glasses. She wanted to be somewhere between old-time movie star and Victorian lady in mourning, but only got as far as her face before getting bored and realizing that she was, in fact, late.
She snaked through the crowd and came up behind Morpheus, wrapping her thin arms around his shoulders and bringing her face slose to his. "Hi," she murmured into his ear. Her cheek brushed his lightly. "Thanks for coming. I was dead, so you're buying the first round."