Jacques flexed his ink-stained fingers as he walked out of his office towards the dining room. It felt strange to spend his days writing polite letters in English after spending years writing essays in French on law and literature.
He halted at the door of the dining room, hesitating at the sight of a red-coated English solider. Jacques was a Jacobin, with a certain measure of xenophobia. However, he was in England and it was best to adapt himself to his surroundings. He steeled himself and walked in smiling. "Bonjour citizen. Are you dining alone?"