'Perhaps I ought' she said sardonically, coming around the sofa to sit on the low couch opposite the one Ozy occupied. 'I wasn't sure if you would have written me as mewling, desperate...' she struggeled to find an term offensive - yet not entirely scandalous enough to describe the sort of pathetic simpering she had spotted in most of the letters. There were two that read as more interesting and there was a hope that it was one of those. It would really rather depend on who her brother had been intending to play a greater joke on - the traditional chap who found himself writing to Christabel Dempesy expecting some demure and pliant debutante - or Chris herself by writing a letter designed to encourage every mad badger in the Empire to write into the wanna be revolutionary.


'I havn't opened it yet' she said rather matter of factly and tossed him the bowed letter - desperately curious herself as to the sort of man who might have been induced to write in response to what she was sure now was one of the more revolutionary letters. 'Tell me how do you find your new brother in law?' She asked, leaning on her elbow, her feet now tucked up under her on the plush furnishing.

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