You’re that Next girl, aren’t you? I think we met at my niece Gloria’s wedding—who did she marry again?” “My cousin Wilbur.” “Now I remember. Who was that sad old fart who made a nuisance of himself on the dance floor?” “I think that was you, sir.” Lord Volescamper thought for a moment and stared at his feet. “Goodness. It was, wasn’t it?
