"You speak French!" Jacques exclaimed greatfully, taking her hand and bowing over it. "Citoyen Jacques Belmont, citoyenne. I am extremely glad you speak French- and so much better than my English! I am from the Embassy, but I suppose you would not guess it from the horrors of my accent, no?"
He led her to the end of the line and he began to feel self-conscious again. He was babbling out of relief, he ought to stop and- and say something sensible.
Of course, he was at a ball, so that might be against some sort of social more. What's more, he had forgotten to ask the name of his partner. "Might I have the pleasure of your name, citoyenne?"