“Well, it’s a good thing you’re married to a Frenchwoman, isn’t it?” Adrienne teased with a soft laugh. Her accent had gone down considerably, but she knew if someone listened hard enough that the French lilt wouldn’t be invisible. Adrienne listened to Cash while pulling on her gloves. “Mmm,” She thought to who she’d corresponded with recently, and the information she’d gained through the letters. “A few, I believe. Perhaps Miss Chang or Miss Dashwood, though I’ve only heard second hand if they’re coming or not. Oh, maybe we’ll see Mrs. Abbott,” She mused, referring to the woman who’d lost her husband on the Santa Antonia just before the birth of their son. “She’s recently come out of mourning, I believe.”

She laughed again, this time at her assignment for the evening as she laced her fingers together and pressed her gloves further onto her fingers. “An odd event to be sure. I may have to explain it to you once we get there and my memory is retrieved. I believe it’s bidding on items by writing your name down on a piece of parchment.” Or perhaps the magical world did it differently than the muggle world that she’d read about. “Either way, I’m quite eager to at least be a bit more subtle when placing bets. The whole raising your number in the air seems a bit….” She pursed her lips, unable to come up with the word. “Flaunting?” She wasn’t entirely sure that was a word.

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