“Miss Ettings,” he greeted her. “How fine you look this evening. The dress does seem familiar, though, doesn’t it?” Dora smiled at him. From anyone else, the comment would have been an insult – and surely most of their company must have interpreted it as such. But since Elias had scoured the dress of colour himself, she suspected it was a friendly rejoinder instead. “Lord Sorcier,” she acknowledged him. “I fear you do not look so fine yourself; one suspects you have not slept enough. And your clothing also seems familiar. One suspects that you have slept in it.”
