Cyril's eyes had fallen slightly down when the two women began talking between themselves.  It was not his place to interject or make comments about their discussion.  That's not to say that he did not have thoughts about what they were discussing, oh no.  It's just that it wasn't important for him to express them.  Not now...and most definitely not here.<br/><br/>However, the brief conversation between them shifted back toward him with his wife's question.  He glanced up toward her and met her eyes briefly.  He almost held them and felt a familiar...well, not quite disdain or dismissiveness, but something similar, rise up in him at her question.  The knowing of where he was, however, served to tamp that emotional response down.<br/><br/>He nodded to his wife.  "Yes, I believe so..."<br/><br/>He glanced back towards Mistress Bridget, his eyes down.  "I believe I can, Mistress.  If that would please you, Mistress."<br/>