Lucrète raised her eyebrow and looked at him seriously. "Please do, Jacques."
She opened the door and stepped inside. The apartment was indeed small, but wholly sufficient for a woman living alone. The furnishings were simple, yet tasteful.
"Thank you," she said to the coachman as he finished bringing her baggage inside. "Voici..." She counted out his payment with difficulty, unfamiliar with English money, then sent him on his way. She shut the door after him, paused several seconds, then peaked out again to make sure he had really gone. Then she quickly locked it and turned back towards Jacques.
"Do sit down and tell me how you have been. And about your father. I do take a great deal of interest in him," she said softly.