Later Fox would not be able to say what came over her. Some portion of her brain, likely in self-defense, would decide firmly that it was the removal of the mask that had done it, the surprise of it. People did not normally behave in such a way as far as she knew, and yet she could think of no way to say so without seeming boorish. She finished off her cup of punch as well, then cleared her throat.
"Good evenin' to ye, Mrs. Fry," she said, slipping her index finger through the cup's handle to let it dangle there. "It's Mr. Cullen, from over at the boardinghouse. I've not seen Ruth about these last few days, has her business in the city been concluded?"
Good, she was able to ask polite questions as if nothing were amiss. The music was changing, the dancers taking up a faster pace with their motions. Elspeth. Elspeth Fry.