She might have laughed at Viola’s evident interest, only she bit her lip to steel herself from it: she did not want to seem too giddy at her own good luck. Best to spit it out, as matter-of-fact as she could.
“You know Mr. Watson, of the Department of Mysteries,” she began in a low, conspiratorial tone, though that was scarcely a question: she had certainly mentioned him here and there before, since they had been as good as courting, if not in society’s showy manner. “Well – we are engaged.” Matter-of-factness just didn’t cover it, when Effie could hardly believe it herself.
“You know Mr. Watson, of the Department of Mysteries,” she began in a low, conspiratorial tone, though that was scarcely a question: she had certainly mentioned him here and there before, since they had been as good as courting, if not in society’s showy manner. “Well – we are engaged.” Matter-of-factness just didn’t cover it, when Effie could hardly believe it herself.
