As Alexander sat beside her, Liberty caught the distinct smell of wine, and she wondered just how much he'd had to drink. She was more conscious of it, it seemed, now that she couldn't have a drink of her own when she wanted. It was distracting, but not unpleasant, and of course she had suspected the purpose of the evening's outing. He'd been out with Crawley and young Black, after all.
'He's always good,' she told Alexander. 'I'm fond of him too. He's more like a Rican child than most of the young ones here are.' A Rican child would have been more argumentative, but that wasn't really a criticism, not at his age. 'He's doing so well with the translation work,' she added with obvious pride, even though none of it was her doing.
Liberty leant back then, her arm brushing lightly against Alexander's. 'I wouldn't know the difference,' she said, a little glint in her eye, 'between London and New York if I saw them. What did Crawley do?'