Re: James and Gil
In contrast to the practically dressed woman beside him, James might have been headed to an evening in one of the posher clubs in Europe for a night of chemin de fer - immaculately tailored black suit with a white dress shirt and a black bow tie (not of the Pee Wee Herman clip-on variety), and hand-stitched Italian dress shoes.
Somehow, without benefit of a laundry, their clothes seemed to remain immaculate, a fact which was very much to James' oft times persnickety taste. Although he could be less than fastidious when the occasion required it.
"Miss Holroyd," he greeted her in return, offering her a smile. He'd enjoyed conversations with Gil, and found her to be intelligent and pleasant, and not at all demanding in the way that so many of his companions were prone to be. And neither did she pressure him into bed, which was the least of his concerns at the moment, surprisingly. He could be celibate when the occasion demanded, and it wouldn't kill him.
Until she'd mentioned it, he hadn't realized she was sans feline, but he'd thought something was missing. So that explained it, although not why. He was sure he'd find out, if it mattered.
"Indeed," he replied to her remark, as he offered her his arm. "Shall we?" He gestured toward the arch with his head as he spoke.