"Ange?" He asked, offering her his hand for the last step from the coach, not as familiar as he should have been with the name. It was familiar, to be certain, but he could not place it, nor it's owner. Even in Versailles he had been bad with names, especially those who were not in his usual social groups, and especially those young people whom his sister associated with in her own youth. He was far more familiar with the sophists of Greece who had been dead thirty lifetimes than his peers and class-mates.
"I suppose I should be staying close by to you whether I recognise old friends or not. I am meant to be escorting you, Thérèse. I am not a guest in my own right. And I might not even be recognised by those I recognise. I am sure they have more than enough on their minds."