Sadie often forgot she probably shouldn’t speak of her accident so casually. Having had more than one in her life, she supposed it was so normal that she didn’t think about it. Still, it probably didn’t make for polite society conversation. Mr. Ashford seemed genuinely concerned and now he had asked and it would be terribly rude of her to ignore the question. "Unfortunately, I was thrown, I hit my head. I suffer from a general memory loss, several years worth, well most of my life really." As far as she knew. She got snippets here and there, but what she did see in her dreams felt like another life, another person’s so it was hard to tell just what exactly was true and what wasn’t. At least she had the forethought not to try and show him the scar that sat just behind her hairline, above her temple.

"It’s useful, I don’t have a terrible accent. I was hoping to visit Paris at some point in my life." Maybe if she married it would happen. That Mr. Ashford traveled to France every once in a while brought another bright smile to her lips. "What is it like?" Was Paris a city like every other? What about the more rural, charming parts of the country? She would love to see the southern parts, where the weather was warmer and the sea breeze came in off the tides. Sadie found herself sipping her champagne almost idly, as if she had forgotten about it completely, lost in the conversation. She would likely have to depart for her next dance soon and the thought was disheartening. Would it be uncouth to search him out after to continue?