<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3a/Yulturn.png)</div><hr/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>JULIET DEMALURE | 23 | SOCIETY WOMAN? DIMINISHED HEIR? </strong></span><hr/><br/>Juliet appreciated the kindness offered by Edmund, and was keen enough to say so as they sat down. Still, her eyes darted from corner to corner of the public house. Conflicting reasons, rather than in alliance. Mind clouded with the depredations of her voyage, both in America and during transit home, she expected the displays of masturbation, the leers, the insinuating comments she could not locate to continue. For this, she appreciated Brockman, who hadn't done any of this. At the same time, she wished to avoid him. He seemed nice enough, but she failed to regard him as a mark -- too much work, and she did not need the money -- but his chatter about the voyage and so on expressed a friendly insistence she could not match. Not at the moment.<br/><br/>"Oh!" she cried, nearly too loud, as he asked her business in England. Not sure if he understood she was not American, she fretted forth toward a solution. "An  aunt," the beautiful ginger expressed, remembering to pronounce it in a flatter, mid-Atlantic accent (not as nasal as more continental varieties). "Such a kind, dear old lady, I am meant to pay a visit. She is doing... poorly in... Bath, not long from London, by my word. My parents, my mother in particular, has requested a... cessation of my studies in order to attend to the old family."<br/><br/>Was this enough? She hoped it was; in any case, she threw the question over to him immediately. Care must always be taken to keep conversation about the other person. "I am much more interested in what causes<em>you</em>to come to England? Leaving your practice in New York? A marvelous city, it is. Marvelous."