The duchess considered the ivory cat handle of her parasol: “You wrote to me?” she asked.
“Yes: about the coming court.”
“About it?”
“Every woman has her dream, duchess! And mine’s to be presented.”
“The odd ambition!” the duchess crooned.
“I admit we live in the valley. Although I have a great sense of the hills!” Madame Wetme declared demurely.
“Indeed?”
“My husband you see ...”
“...............”
“Ah! well!”