Declan led the way up the narrow staircase, keeping his pace slow because he knew that Saffron was tired. "What sort of ideas?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her, "Big sleeves and heeled shoes?" (Declan had limited exposure to the upper classes, except the few people who came to the printshop instead of sending someone on their behalf, which generally meant that his impression of them was mostly based off of stereotypes.) "Or illustrations for the other pamphlets?"