Ford nodded appreciatively at her explanations and poured himself a mug of the warm cider, because it seemed more novel and interesting — most parties that had anything besides champagne only served cold drinks. He wondered briefly how she knew so much about it, but it wasn't odd enough to merit interrogation. Maybe she'd had some drinks earlier in the evening and someone had explained it all then, or maybe it was the same every year and she remembered from before. It didn't really matter much, and he wasn't sure he could ask her about it without sounding like he was accusing her of being a lush.

"I don't do anything important at parties," Ford said, with a slightly bitter undercurrent to his words. He would have liked to have been doing important things at parties. He would have liked for chaperoning the girls to mean more than just trying to goad them into talking with more than one gentleman in the course of the evening. Clementine would rather clump with the other recent graduates, all female, and gossip all night; Grace would rather cling to the edge of the event space looking and feeling miserable. "And anyway, my brother Noble's around here somewhere; if there was anything important to be done I'm sure he'd be up to the task."

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