Subconsciously Ida’s movements mirrored Mister Greengrass’s, and she took another ponderous drag from her cigarette. Unlike him however, though less important a detail for Ida to take much stock in, was the fact that her cigarette was more than halfway through. This conversation proved to be a trickier territory than she’d anticipated. But perhaps the unintended consequence of getting the advice she needed would be to also give Mister Greengrass a clue.Two birds one stone.

“I suppose you’re right….” she allowed, skeptical still. He did have a bit of a point. The dresses she had custom made for her debut fit much better than the off-the-rack dresses that failed to account for how tall and gangly she was (willowy, the modiste charitably offered).

Of course, knowing what she could say was a very different thing from having the wherewithal to say it. “But it’s dumb,” she demurred again, waving a hand to indicate how haphazard her interest was. “It’s not as if… And it’s not what you’re thinking,” she added hastily.

At an uncharacteristic loss for words, Ida could simply not conjure the right syllables to deny that her desire was a romantic one. Ida was a terrible liar. And if he caught her in the lie, then he would continue to want to know who it is, and if he knew, he would know it was a woman, and that really made no sense at all. Most importantly, Ida refused to be a topic of conversation at the Greengrass’s teatime.

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