Ivy shrugged at him. She was not supposed to have manners; she was poor. And never mind that the working class obviously did have manners, even if some conventions were different — she was not going to point that out, as she also did not like him.

But they were going to have to spend the rest of the night together. Ivy swallowed. She wanted to kick her boots against his floor, but that seemed too rude. "Do you have cards?" she asked, "And wine?"

She could not spend time with Blott sober.