"Men can be difficult," she acquiesced. "Pride, ego, all those things us females are taught to loathe they obey. Strange how our world works." The words hang in the air, meaningless, for a moment. "I did not ask you here to discuss philosophy, of course."
Leaning back in her chair, she tapped her nails against the tabletop in thought. "There is something about you. You are as French as my French maid, but you are not of her ilk. Your manners are different." Lips pursed, she leaned forward again, restless because she could not read her. "I think we are in the same situation, you and I. I think you fled France as I did - only your husband survived the journey. But of course... if you had to flee, then you were wanted for something. Crime or your birthright. So which is it?"