Lucrète carefully began dabbing away at the blood on her face, wincing as she brushed the original wound. "No, Monsieur. I don't think of the Jacobin Club as being particularly welcoming for ladies. At least not an unescorted lady, as I confess I am." She spoke quickly, trying to distract him from worrying about his friends. "I do read the printed speeches though. I greatly admire Monsieur Robespierre from his speeches," she added softly. "Do you know him?" She stretched her foot out, testing it, and winced. "No good."