”Somehow not”, he outright agreed with a crooked smile. And such was her enthusiasm he would have quite happily regaled her there and then with tales of this particular adventure, but as he straightened up on the wall he realised he was still quite light-headed. He should not let himself suffer from masculine pride — Arven needed to sit down, it was as simple as that.

”But it’s not exactly a streetside tale, madam. There’s a little tearoom across the way — would you care to join me for a spell? Arven Fisk”, he added by way of introduction. No it was not entirely proper for them to share stories over a cup of tea, especially with his being a bachelor, but at least they’d be in a public place, more or less introduced — and they were hardly nubile teens with fluttering eyelashes.

Besides, the perceived importance of propriety tends to be measured by the improper.