Cash's grin, this time, was genuine. He hit the next ball, striking Miss Selwyn's in the process. "It's rare that I try my hand at archery," he admitted, "Although I think I would like it — I suppose it requires a similar visual acuity to seeking?" Miss Selwyn was an athlete, then, as well as being French and having a presumably significant dowry — this was something Cash noted vaguely in his head, as now he knew exactly three facts about her.

He felt gross, having these conversations, doing this. It made him feel gross. At least he actually had something in common with Miss Selwyn.

He took a step back to let her go. "I'm sure you could outshoot me, if you're confident enough in archery to pursue it," he added, with an easy shrug of his shoulders.

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