"What, completely?" Tony asked, looking momentarily tantalized, thoughtful as he slid from his seat. Even as he continued, he gestured to their server, who had returned and was looking expectantly to him as he prepared to leave, circling the champagne left on the bar in the air then continuing the motion to point back at the reserved party. He had promised to take care of the bill anyway, and that was more than enough appreciation to be blown back on him when he needed it than to have to stick around and say his good-byes as well. "I feel like that would leave them just as annoying, but without the vocabulary to support it, so it would just be kind of sad," he decided, grimacing cartoonishly at the prospect.
On his feet, tie and jacket straightened, he offered Emma a hand down from her stool that quickly became a hand on her back to walk with her from the strange, echoing seclusion of the restaurant. Their departure was respectful and casual enough, until Tony's hand wandered from the stiff, strict lines of Emma's corset to the more forgiving fabric of her skirt, where it just fit so naturally over the globe of her ass. He didn't even look back to check if her dignity had remained untarnished.
It hadn't turned out to be such a terrible breakfast as it started. Champagne, caviar and the White Queen of the Hellfire Club; Tony wasn't about to complain.