"Oh, twenty years," August said, with a light laugh. Somewhere along the line he'd gone and gotten old. He still was not sure how it had happened. Lysander would be a first year in September. "Have you heard of the Grand Tour? It's a bit of a tradition for young British gentlemen — they travel, primarily in southern Europe." He hadn't bored her yet, or at least she was making a good show of being polite and interested, so he ought to keep up the conversation.