Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. To witness this girl sewing on a loose button, flopping the coat about on her knees, tickled his ironic sense of humour; and laughter bubbled into his throat. ‘But what way, Emile?’ ‘Your family, mademoiselle, the family of your father. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. Jonathan had not deceived him. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. ’ ‘Hadn’t the wit, you mean. “You too sing?” he asked. The point is, I know all the tricks in finding a man.
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