Tracey laughed, brightly. "Jealous? Oh, love, no." Tracey had been raised around incredibly beautiful, wealthy and talented witches and if she was going to be jealous of anyone it would've been her friends. "And judging from your age I would wager that you cannot afford that dress either, but your parents are obviously providing for you since you're not capable of doing that yourself. My, my, you must be so proud."
A spark ignited in Tracey again. She'd been feeling so sorry for herself for months that she hadn't been herself. But now here she was, trading little barbs with some silly French bint. "Merlin, your English is horrible. It's a good thing you're pretty, I suppose."