This accidental, self-inflicted torture had lasted much longer than Daff had anticipated, but now she came to the crossroads where she may be able to excuse herself, but selfishly didn't want to. Nor did she want to be rude, so she continued to prolong the moment. It was a strange feeling, trying to cling to something she wasn't even sure existed anymore, but unable to even acknowledge as much to anyone other than herself.

"Certainly," Daff said in response to another time and to the possibility of a quadrille if it came up during the rest of their conversation. She hoped it didn't happen, she would certainly make a  fool of herself, but she would have hated to say no. "Daffodil Potts, it's very nice to meet you." It was, though she wished under different circumstances. She fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist for a moment before realizing what she was doing and folded her hands neatly before her again. Where were those drinks now?