He was lying, but that was alright. It was the gentlemanly sort of lie, and Henrietta certainly wasn't going to fault him for it. Particularly not if it meant they could both end this conversation all the sooner. She certainly didn't want to talk to anyone who had seen her with her necklace crooked and sitting on the stairs and might even have seen her stocking-covered ankles while she had been indisposed.

"Yes, well, thank you," she said again. It occurred to her that she ought to ask his name — Helga would have scolded her for having an interaction with a gentleman and not asking it, anyway — but she had no desire whatsoever to do so. She wanted, more than anything, to forget this had ever happened, and learning his name was antithetical to that goal. So instead, she said very shortly: "Goodbye," and made her escape down the stairs, to retrieve her fan.