Eddie was young, it was true, but he was not as young as Marguerite might have thought. He was 25, and perhaps unlike his peers, who were shy or awkward around beautiful women, Eddie was rather confident in this department. While the approach was unexpected, it was not unappreciated, for Marguerite was indeed very beautiful, and he did not know her, so he was happy to talk to her. And when she spoke to him in French - oh, how beautiful the words sounded! It was so rare that he met anybody who spoke French, or even who understood anything of what he said beyond an initial "enchantee`."
Like a gentleman he got up and pulled a chair out for her, gesturing for her to sit. "C`est qui, cette image de perfection qui parle avec moi?"
Once he had sat back down himself, Eddie smiled charmingly and answered, "Je le parle depuis ... tout ma vie." He chuckled. "Ma mere est nee en Marseilles. Moi, je m`appelle Edouard. Et vous?"
(OOC: "Who is this image of perfection who speaks with me?" then "I`ve spoken it for...all my life. My mother was born in Marseilles. I`m Edward. And you?" On my phone so sorry for typos & the lack of proper French accents... :[)